


Uncanny Collection

by thingschangebrah



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Abandonment, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Arguing, Betrayal, Blood, Bows & Arrows, Explicit Language, Flirting, Fluff and Angst, Food Poisoning, George is clueless, Graphic Depictions of Illness, Graphic Description of Corpses, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Minecraft, Pining, Possessive Behavior, Sad Ending, Stalking, Swordfighting, Video Game Mechanics, Violence, Vomiting, dream is a hunter, dreamnotfound, kind of a manhunt, sometimes animal slaughtering is detailed, unrequited love but only at first, you choose the ending cause I decided to make two
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:26:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 67,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25996714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thingschangebrah/pseuds/thingschangebrah
Summary: As scared of death as he was, Dream, a newly found hunter in this eat or be eaten world, made a horrifying reputation for himself by conquering the last well-known master, overtaking his 'throne'.George, on the other hand, was inexperienced and afraid of the unknown, resuming to his safe house in the middle of a plains biome, surrounded by herds of various animals. He'd heard tales about people misteriously vanishing, never to be found again, yet he trusted himself to be able to flee.A rumor was flying here and there, about a misterious, masked man with an equally intriguing list of various names and pseudos who raids homes, slaughters families only for his own sickly amusement- a vast collection of unique accessories (necklaces, rings, earrings and whatnot) pieces of fabric or even the organs of an unlucky victim, preserved meticulously in jars and bottles.What George didn't know was that his glasses, which were always propped on his head, could actually be the death of him. Quite literally.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 248
Kudos: 523





	1. Into the Unknown

George inhaled the raw scent of grass as he laid down on a soft blanket, completely engulfed by the lime blades which not only cut at his exposed skin, but also sent little tingles on the hairs on his arms. 

He was content with the place he was in. It wasn't as dry as a desert, which always seemed scarier than any other biomes to him, neither it was as luxurious as the jungle he had only dreamed about. Plains. Just as plain as the biome itself, the name didn't spark any interest to it, seemingly one of the least liked ones but he couldn't quite grasp de idea of why.

To him, it seemed like a home which always belonged to him. Lonely trees shuddered and jolted when their leaves would be blown by the warm, salty breeze of an nearby beach. The rich, birch forest next to it made everything seem only better in his vision.

A blue river bit at the corners of the land, making a viable living space for it's scaly companions- a bank of salmon splashing and playing near the young kelp. 

The boy sat up and glanced around one last time. It was going to be his home, no doubt to this simple thought. If he didn't take advantage of the terrain, someone else will and he didn't know if he would like that after the warmest welcome a biome could offer. 

After finding a piece of the river which was narrow enough to let him pass without getting his boots soaked in the water, he passed to the forest and began gathering sticks and rocks from the ground, mainly to try and make something of his own.

Not only did he hear about the amazing swords and pickaxes you could forge from the bluest of ores, but he had always dreamed of carrying one of each tool, maybe enchanting them if the language could become accessible to him by the time he gathered the necessary resources. 

Only that now he had to focus on the more simple ones, something more accessible to his early stage of development. 

A few pieces of wood found home in his inventory after exploring deeper into the forest, along with a handful of sticks, rocks and pebbles that would be soon put to the test of making a few tools, at least a pickaxe and a grayish sword which he'll use for his defense since armor was inaccessible now. 

The more greenish and longer grass from this part of the land crawled and pulled on his boots, not quite wanting him to go out of its comfort and domesticity, noticing that he wasn't even half prepared to spend a night outside on his own. Leaves huddled above to shelter him from the last few strands of sun before it was replaced by its elegant counterpart, the moon.

George had to work fast and smart if he wanted to get through this. As inexperienced as he was, both a pickaxe and a sword were tied toghether at a crafting table he'd placed down not long ago, now sitting comfortably in his grip, ready to defend their owner.

And so, the night fell onto the quiet biome and somewhere over the horizon, a few specks of light showed themselves, signaling at a lava lake bubbling and burning everything surrounding the stone peeking out of the grass. It was surely a future destination for the new survivor, but what he decides to do with it won't be in anyone's control but his own.

Both out of fear and excitement to try his new tools, he had ventured into a cave that gaped its mouth from the side of a hill, welcoming in everyone that dared to cross the patches of granite and diorite. Not long after his arrival that the pinkish teeth of an iron node bit at his boots as he almost missed them, in an attempt to be picked up and used to make a shiny chestplate or a nimble tool. Their plea was answered as George mined them cautiously, inspecting the bits of rocks with metal in them, storing them away in his backpack made from wool. 

The trip was cut short when the cave suddenly stopped and he was left with an empty heart and a few pieces of iron ore. Luckily, hidden away in the shadows, behind a few mushrooms was a generous lump of coal which he'd use to cook the mutton he scraped off the bones of one sheep hunted down by a pack of wolves, obviously already satiated since the animal had only been killed but not eaten.

With a loud thud, the backpack he'd used until now fell apart and all his belongings sprawled all around the floor. The boy kneeled and blindly searched for a few sticks and a piece of flint to try and light one of them on fire, in a pathetic attempt of a torch. Just as the flint was on the verge on being deemed as useless, a final spark emmited and the stick was aflame, suddenly the whole cave getting covered in a warm orange.

"Finally" his voice was hoarse from not speaking since he had started but nonetheless it had a sweet undertone and a thick accent, not even himself being sure of when he got it. 

After another workbench was placed down before him, he began to assemble a furnace from the rocks he gathered on the way here. The process was short enough to not make him waste additional energy or hunger, just as his stomach began to rumble, the echo bouncing back and forth between the closed walls around him.

The coal which he collected earlier was now put to good use, serving as fuel for when he decided to cook the meat. Even without any kind of salt or the smallest speck of pepper it would taste infinitely better to him since the hunger began to ravage his insides, making him twist in annoyance at the slow pace of the furnace.

The cave's walls now seemed to close in on the awkward survivor that suddenly felt like a complete stranger to the humid terrain, almost like ushering him out of itself. Maybe it was a sign that outside, the sun had started to rise and the vicious animals had taken shelter in the shadows of forests or caves like his own. 

After the backpack was fixed carefully and the mutton was eaten, only left with a few bones he'd give to a wild animal, George wobbled outside and glanced at the dramatic landscape.

Sunrise. 

Everything was covered in a thin blanket of yellowish warmth along with dew and a scent he couldn't quite uncover. It seemed familiar, just like when he stumbled upon the cave but decided to brush the thought off. It was already hard for him to remember all the things he'd learnt in one day so he couldn't be bothered by a simple smell. 

The whole forest around him seemed to wake up as he hopped down a few hills until the familiar view of the river presented itself in front of him. The fish continued to splash in his direction, almost as if mocking him with their unlimited freedom and simplicity in living. The view bough a small smile to his tired face, only now feeling his aching tendons from sitting on a cave floor all night. He needed to make something similar to a bed, or at least lay something down to sleep on since his eyes refused to stay open much longer.

Finally, the slightly taller and more voluminous tree which sheltered him from the harsh sun when he first spawned made its presence noticeable, with that, his little adventure of the day being done. Everything was thrown lazily on the ground next to him, the backpack filled with the warm wool serving as his pillow while he took a short nap. 

His eyes fluttered closed as a small yawn crippled from between his chapped lips onto the enjoyable breeze, flowing away. The black and white glasses which he considered to be 'esential' sat firmly on top of his head, serving no other purpose than simply decorative, yet he liked them and felt like one of a kind since, well honestly, they _were_ one of a kind in this bizzare world which he'd get to call his home not long after.

Not only George noticed that his glasses were indeed unique, but also the figure that slithered from one branch to another, finally settling on a thicker part of the tree, right above his head, content with watching his possible future victim sleep so innocently below him.

Dream was his name, and surely it was quite a popular pseudo since everyone feared for their lives when a certain man with blonde hair and unsettling mask made his appearance, ready to collect the belongings and body of whoever he deemed most interesting. That's why older and wiser players wore simple clothes, with no accessories but simple circled earrings if they were a female, and either a ponytail, a braid or a buzz cut for the males. They learned to fear for their capability to stand out so they resumed to blending with the shadows, never going out at night or early in the morning. You never knew when Dream could be patrolling the towns.

More courageous players, either out of stupidity or supreme confidence, wore all kinds of flashy equipment- the finest of scarves, hats or glasses and even bracelets or rings for those that could get their hands on enough gold, diamonds and emeralds, either from excesive mining or unfair trades with innocent villagers. Those kinds of people were the ones that Dream absolutely despised, the ones that took advantage of every little, no matter of insignificant opportunity that presented itself and still them being the ones ending up with much more than at the beginning.

And that was exactly why he decided to start his so called _collection_. It consisted of all the things he found valuable, from golden teeth and diamond forged earrings to odd colored fabrics from jackets, scarves, bandanas and whatnot. Even the organs of victims he found covered in riches were stored and preserved by none other than him, with a method he developed himself, after many failed attempts and horrifying scents that won't go away for days at a time. The jars, boxes and bottles which contained his precious items were themselves stored in a secret room, hardly accessible even by him, who knew all of the little traps, the holes in the floor and the patterns on all the puzzles. Well obviously he knew all of them, they were made by him afterall. Even thinking about the passage, the whole trapping mechanism and the resources needed to excavate the whole thing lasted for at least a few months before it was planned and the only thing left was the labor.

Not only he was made fun of when he began the project, but he had also been pushed a few times in the gaping hope he made by his 'friends' whose belongings and hearts lay inside the finished product right now, each labeled with the name and date of harvest. Dream could proudly announce that they were the first pieces to be added, but also the first pieces he could experiment his method of conserving on. 

Now, back to the silhouette watching curiously over George.

Dreams legs swung in a chaotic tempo, yet always stopping when about to hit the branch he was seated on or the dark bark of the old oak tree that served as a refuge for him. 

The brunette didn't wear any flashy clothes, nor they seemed interesting at all. His shirt was a nice shade of turquoise and had a red and white rectangle on the area just below the collar bone. Even his pants wore an equally nice shade of deeper blue, almost remininding him of the frozen oceans he visited a few times before. The boots which covered his feet had visible scratch marks and seemed to have been in more adventures than this one, yet he didn't pay much mind to them, not getting drawn to anything related to them.

The only thing that piqued his curiosity were the odd glasses that were seated on his head, clearly not meant to protect his eyes from the sun or anything that might hurt him, an explosion or even the simple dust. Now, that was something that this poor soul was worth stalking a few days for, even a little longer than that if he was entertaining enough for the blonde.

After what seemed to be days but was actually barely an hour, the boy began to stir, stretch and suddenly he opened his eyes, looking around for any possible threat, only now noticing that it was still day so he had enough time to explore around the area a bit before he had to take shelter inside the cave from last night, which he hoped would prove a better shelter than being outside. The torches he stuck in the walls last night were probably burnt out by now so he didn't have to necessarily hurry up and get back. 

And so, his sprawled items were put into the now empty backpack, soon back on his shoulder. His legs ached from the uncomfortable position he slept in but took a few steps to make sure he didn't sprain anything in his sleep and he was ready to go. The sun was still above him and the wind only began to blow a little more, probably announcing a storm, yet he didn't worry.

The poppies and the dandelions hurried into smaller packs where the soil was richer, indicating a better place for a future wheat farm, or maybe even a potato one if he could trade at any village for some of them. He still wasn't sure of the animals roaming free around the pasture, probably hungry from how the plains seemed to dry out when they connected to the beach, so a sturdy fence for them was now placed on his list of possible projects, along with the farms and a very comfortable bed, since sleeping on the ground proves to not be the best thing to ever do. 

Only now he'd noticed the abundance of resources he was next to. A few caves opened along the river, leaving the water some place to flow inside, wetting the andesite and gravel next to the entrance, also marking possible places he could explore later, when he had more free space for minerals. The birch forest was itself full of life, a pack of wolves hunting down a sheep now a full landscape before him. The poor herbivore's clean, white wool now stained red from the wounds it gathered by trespassing on unknown territory was licked clean by a little pup that now seemed to have its first hunt. In the water, a few banks of cod and other various types of fish he couldn't exactly distinguish played, splashed and nibbled at the kelp closer to the shore, shining their scales through the glimmering water, soon to be put to rest by the cooling temperature. Even the simple plains seemed to be livelier than expected. A few chickens picked at a patch of dandelions, destroying the odd leaves, leaving only the yellow flower stranded in the middle of a sea of unknown greenery.

The sun was going down.His aching feet carried him to the narrow part of the river and with a small jump, he was on the side that continued the dense birch forest. The cave he'd called his own little shelter a few times swallowed him whole, burrowing him underground, away from skeletal hands and disfigured monstrosities which only looked for something to fulfill their hunger for spilled blood.

Once George reached the end of the cave where his little temporary base was located in, he flopped on the ground and thought about the insignificant achievements he acquired.

He managed to get himself some decent tools for a complete beginner, found himself in a welcoming location full of materials he could use for a possible home, even managed to harvest both wool and meat from that poor sheep he found bleeding out by the river. He could probably announce, if anyone was even listening to this little ramble of his, that it was an interesting beginning, his confidence only rising higher as moments passed and yesterday's and today's memories washed over his already tired brain.

His attention was turned to the clumps of stone that blended with iron and other various stone-related materials into precisely 5 iron ores. The furnace would probably be the best place to smelt them, so, without thinking any further about what he'd be doing with them, they were thrown into the furnace that still had a faint scent of fatty mutton, slowly bubbling into a grayish mess that sometimes dripped past the stone bowl the pieces were contained in. 

Both eyes were stuck to the source of light in the cave, unable to look away from the weird orange the liquid metal had started to shade to, highly tempted to touch it but the rational part in his brain prevented such a childish action. It would probably just stick to his hand and burn through the flesh- something he clearly did not want to deal with so early. 

After a few more minutes of bubbling, the furnace ran out of coal and the metal began to slowly cool down, getting painted into a light shade of gray, almost pink in his tired eyes. 

And there it was. A fairly big block of iron, still sprinkled with diverse rocks he couldn't fish out from when it was still hot, yet pleasing to look at. It was his first impressive achievement, and he was barely on his second night. 

Deciding that five pieces of iron went into the making of the generous chunk, five smaller iron ingots should be coming out of it. So, with his last piece of coal, he traced four crooked lines and tried his luck with his stone pickaxe. 

It took him a few minutes to get the hang of it, but he was done with the last piece in record time, much to his satisfaction. 

To his collection of items were added both the ingots and the furnace since he didn't want to spend any more time in the humid cave, even if it proved to be a better shelter than anything he could make... yet. The boy had great plans for his house, even if it would take quite a few days to find and gather all the materials and decorations. 

'It's worth it.' George kept telling himself as he stepped out of the cave, surprised to see that it wasn't even close to the sunrise. 

The rustle of a sympathetic bush bounced into his ears as his scared eyes scanned the area. Behind him, a short birch tree offered its comfort, protecting him at least from this side. Yet, the bush continued to shake and move and produce all kinds of sound he found unsettling, finally the mighty beast stepping out of it- 

A little stray cat, equally scared of George as he was of it. 

They both stared one at another, dumbfounded and curious, but the feline was fast enough to run back into a little burrow, probably of some rabbit's that though of it as too small or distasteful. 

With the collar of his shirt, his forehead was wiped of the little beads of sweat that ran down, some of them even reaching the corner of his lips, salting them. A small chuckle came from the boy as he looked around. 

Still dark, not even a little bit of lightning in this dense forest, not even the slightest ray of moon light

His eyes ran back and forth, looking everywhere yet missing the dark figure that jumped from one top of the tree to another, clearly satisfied with the show the scared male was putting on. If he missed it before, it became quite evident that he was a beginner, a complete scaredy cat on top of that. 

_"This is interesting"_ Dream whispered to himself, in a low husky voice while rubbing his hands together as George continued to turn and look behind him, then to his right and lastly to his left, only to continue walking a bit before doing the whole ordeal again, going in the opposite direction of both the cave and the plains. 

The blonde's body remained on top of the tallest tree, eyes glued to the frail figure on the ground, grin only growing bigger and weirder as the other began to lose his direction. He mentally cursed the moon for going down, leaving her spot for the sun to take, even though he decided that a little bit more watching wouldn't hurt anyone. 

_"Second day, Bambi"_ he chuckled, vanishing into the forest before the light passed through the thick layer of leaves, making any light under them, to the layer of mushrooms and weeping grass.


	2. Diving Further

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George explores just a little bit too much for his own good.

It would be a pleasant sunrise if not for the skeletal figure that chased George all the way into the little crevice of a mine, barely allowing him to squeeze in and avoid any more damage done to his body. 

He didn't know why the creature attacked him, how its bones stood toghether to form an atrocious body or how it was so skilled in shooting arrows, hitting him in the shoulder, the stick of the arrow breaking in the process of running away. 

The walls of the cave opened into an enormous sphere, scattered with coal, stone's least liked cousins, andesite and diorite and of course, a patch of gravel that looked a little bit out of place. 

Considering that it would be good to gather some of the coal, he got to work and added a fairly decent amount of the powdery yet creamy substance to a pouch of his, already stained with various materials, even food and his own blood. 

Once done with gathering said mineral, he knelt on top of the gravel and scooped up a handful only to be met with a weird stone on stone crumble, the block easily influenced by gravity tumbling into a pool of water, a generous twenty feet lower than the level he was in before. 

Splashing and grasping for air, George looked absolutely everywhere for a piece of stone, seemingly one of the best things to ever exist to him now, to climb on and catch his breath before exploring any further. 

After climbing on top of a dusty chunk of granite, he noticed that all of his belongings, including his glasses and his pickaxe were scattered all along the pool of water. The much heavier iron bars, cobblestone bits and his tools sank to the bottom of it, while the lighter pieces of wool, a few apples and his almost new backpack floated aimlessly along the surface. 

Their tensionate floatation was only interrupted by another source of water, but not as aggresive as this one, only dripping every few seconds into the bigger one, disturbing the already muddy coverage. 

Just as the boy finally felt his lungs go back to their normal size, he allowed himself to swim into the water and fish out the items on the surface, stuffing them into the backpack, placing it on the stone he was seated on before once finished. The more elaborate bit of work was now quite evident to him. Having to get the heavy items from under the water while making sure he wasn't drowning would prove to be a little more complicated than he wished it would be, yet he dived into the water to retrieve at least three iron bars. 

Feeling quite confident in himself after managing to rescue the tree beloved items, he plunged back into the water for a second time, getting only the ingots, ditching both the stone sword and pickaxe along with the crumble of cobblestone. 

Another workbench was pulled out and he meditated for a moment about both tools' crafting recipes. 

If they were made with stone and there probably existed an iron variant, then, he'd only have to replace the stone with iron and it would result his desired item. 

While fiddling with the sticks and the iron, from somewhere under the cave he was in, was another one, trembling and bustling with life as the sounds of spiders ringed through the wall, sending a weird shiver down his spine. Why were so many spiders down there? The male surely had to answer the question that rose with the intensity of the sounds, denying the existence of any sort of way down from his closed off cavern.

And there he was, holding both a pickaxe and a sharp sword, both made out of the impeccable metal he got used to smelting, trying them out in mid-air only to let out a grin so full of confidence that maybe it could fill up the last few blocks missing of water from the pool. He was satisfied but his insides were clearly not. 

It seemed that his stomach requested something he was running short on- Food. 

George placed the backpack on the side of stone, took out two apples and halved them using his new sword, chipping away a few bits of the blade, earning an annoyed groan, yet stuffed the pieces of fruit in his mouth, absolutely devouring them. 

"Augh" he groaned and placed the sword in the thin sheath he managed to braid when he got bored inside the cave, not long ago. "Guess you're not that strong, huh?" the boy giggled and tapped the cover with a smile, and began mining his way towards the source of the screeching and moaning of various races of spider, from the biggest, and the darkest in color he'd seen once before outside before the sun rose to the smaller and poisonous ones, close to the color of a tropical green. 

He liked to think that his fear was masked by the growing excitement towards a new spot to explore, maybe a few new items he'd never seen before to be put in his possession. It was a land of all possibilities, endless and for him only to discover, or so he thought. 

After a few more steps down his weird staircase, he fell on something familiar of texture, smooth and almost easy to press into. Wood which absorbed water and was squishy when pushed. That's what he was touching, but what is the thing covering it? A type of rail, broken, almost going through his hand since a piece of its iron was perked up, almost as if waiting for him. 

This was surely something he's never seen before. 

A long tunnel, tall enough to allow him to stand up and wide enough to allow his arms to fully extend stretched both behind and in front of him. The wooden ceiling was filled with cobwebs, an occasional torch filling the dark area with light, only to be interrupted by a good ten feet of ominous shadows, with monsters lurking in it, of course, the ones that didn't dare go into the light. 

Water dripped from every corner possible, gathering into puddles of different sizes, by something he couldn't distinguish yet. It looked blocky, almost as a rectangle and it surely had something in it. Something maroon, close to the color of the oak logs from outside, then it clicked. A chest! Something totally unexpected of this bizzare environment but surely accepted by him. 

Scurrying to his feet while dusting himself off, he ran to the minecart, the 'blocky' thing he finally managed to identify after thinking harder on it, and crouched next to it, swinging the top lid of the chest open, in complete awe of the treasure. 

Another set of five ingots greeted him as his hand shuffled in, more curious of a small pouch with a poorly-written etiquette on the little string which was used to tie its neck shut. George could only decipher the word 'seeds' after something smudged by the water at the bottom of the chest, but he took the container nonetheless, happy that he got the seeds of something other than wheat. 

Other things that jumped to greet his searching hand were a few cubes of a deep blue ore which at first he thought would be diamonds but turned out to be its poorer, less attractive relative, lapis lazuli. 

The items weren't specifically the best, nor they were complete garbage so he took them gladly, pleased with the little helping hand he was receiving at the start. 

Only that his happiness would be cut short due to the little droplets of lava that gathered above his wounded shoulder, threatening to fall down due to the pure force gravity was using on them, making them wobble and move a few times before splashing on the milky skin. 

While yelling in absolute pain at the sudden sensation of his flesh ultimately burning and itching under the cooling lava, the figure began using a stick to scrape it off and then throw it as far as possible since it was made of wood, thus bursting into warm flames. 

Something he didn't quite need now- 

Warmth.

On the other hand, something that he needed and would surely take right now, was the water that dripped from the ceiling into the rails and the planks that made the bits of floor that didn't mush both with the stone and a weird mixture of dirt and mud. A bucket would clearly help to carry the liquid around, in cases of emergencies, like this one, for example, yet he knew he'd probably forget to carry any with him. 

After breaking and using the few planks that seemed fairly un-moldy to craft another workbench, placed protectively around him, he took out the iron ingots and gazed at them intently, trying to make all the possible crafting recipes from which a bucket would emerge victoriously, or he'd get hit by the materials being rejected by the table. 

It was a few good minutes before he decided on a 'V' form, thinking that it was the closest to what a bucket would actually end up looking like rather than how it was crafted. 

With one arm covering half of his face and the other placing the bars into the bench, George began to quietly hope that the sounds of spiders only growing hungrier and more restless would suddenly just drown out and he'd only be left with the bubbling of a nearby lava lake. 

Surprisingly, the table not only did accept the materials, but it had also given him a generous bucket, enough to carry around yet not too much to make the hand bearing it sore. 

If he wanted to go further into the intricate labyrinth, he'd need to have at least a sturdy torch with him, and what better way to do it than to take one of the already burning ones, wrap a little piece of fabric material on its head and then go your merry way? He could surely make one of his own but he was doubtful of the fact that a stick with a little bit of coal on top would prove to be better than one made so burn for days. 

And so, his journey to look for the pit of spiders had begun, much before he decided that it started. 

Feeling the loneliness start to creep on his back, clasp his head between its long claws and slowly crush it, also weighting him down more and more, the boy began to humm to himself at first, afraid of any of the monsters hearing him, but then, stopped caring and singed while stepping carefully along a faint line of rails. They connected at some point so they may be leading to something of importance, which was used for delivering better equipment or resources. 

Sadly, it wasn't as George had imagined and they lead to an imposing stone wall that stared the boy back, almost with the same level of disappointment that it received, cutting the adventure short. 

The spiders seemed so close though, almost as if... They were on the other side of the wall? 

Curiosity got the best of him so, without further ado, his sword was changed to his other iron tool, mining hastily through the stone that seemed just about as brittle as cheese, breaking almost immediately with a full swing of the pickaxe, right in the centre, where all the other sides of the stone would break easily, with the slightest touch. 

Satisfied with his handiwork, the male passed through the hole he'd made, not a very big one, just enough for him to squeeze through and glanced before him. 

The view was... interesting to say the least. A cage, or something similar to a box of iron bars and various locks stood proudly on the floor, seemingly trapping a petite spider inside of it, which spun frantically inside, checking at every corner, if not for any room to squeeze out of it and be free. Covering the cage, were at least five to seven layers of thick cobweb, barely inaccessible by the spiders that built it, which now wandered around it, making sure to not leave a certain area. A single torch made a little bit of light from the end of some hallway by the structure, preventing the spiders from attacking him on sight. He also noticed that they might be having a poor vision due to their abnormally big and plumpy eyes that served absolutely no purpose.

The box made him inspect it curiously, look from the sides he could angle his head at, then sit on his tip toes and glance over the web, into the end of the hallway where another minecart with a chest awaited patiently, hoping for someone skilled to take its insides and forge them into items worth of carrying around. 

Suddenly, a spider's screech pierced his ears, reflecting the weird sound back and around the walls of the still somewhat humid cave and all of the arachnids gathered at his feet, some even going to the extent of climbing the wall he was resting on, only to try and bite his face, inflicting their venom closest to the brain, killing him slowly and painfully. 

While trying to fend all of them away, George got his ankle bitten by a very hairy spider, which tugged at his boot, almost as it was his and it wanted its property back, without damaging him, failing to do so. 

"Hey-!" the male kicked a couple of spiders away, using his sword to threaten them, warning that if they get closer, some of them may end up with less legs than eight. For some it worked but not for the light green spider that jumped on his arms, burrowing its venomous fangs deep into his flesh, injecting the poison directly into his bloodstream. 

Stumbling backwards and indubitably falling on his bottom, he tried to get as far as possible from the spiders, into a dark corner, to see if his vision could get any blurrier than it already was or if he'd throw up the two apples he managed to cut in unequal halves. 

It seemed so, as his eyes watered along with his mouth and throat, stomach convulsing and before he knew it, everything he had ingested from the past third of a day came out in a weird puddle, its color matching the spiders that just jumped him, yet the chunks were colored in a wide pallette of colors, from light beige to the dark maroon that the cooked mutton turned to. 

With the same limb that suffered the biting, he wiped his mouth as he rested against the cold surface of an only-stone tunnel which he was currently sprawled in, hoping to get as coolers as possible before he was back on his legs, trying to reach the minecart again, preferably in some other way.

Deciding that he wouldn't risk getting bitten again, he began to mine a paralel tunnel to the one he just escaped from, even if it proved to be a lot more work than what he planned. It was supposed to be a quick trip, nothing too fancy, just get the chest and you're out but the little creatures didn't seem so fond of his plan. 

The stone crumbled onder the weight of the tool, falling into bits on the ground, some of them even going to the extent of crawling inside his tanned boots, making his next steps uncomfortable. Only that he stopped the whole work, shuffled the boot out and wiggled it a few times in the air to clean it of the pebbles. He didn't want to do this constantly so he mined without even bothering anymore, coming to the conclusion that it's better to ignore them until he was finished. 

After an eternity to him, it was done and he could barely hear the various noises the spiders produced, seemingly growing tired from attacking him. 

He mined to the side, the only thing that greeted him being said minecart, one that looked exactly like the one from before, containing an identic chest to the other, on the same boring rails, inside the same bland tunnels he grew to hate looking at. 

You couldn't blame him after all. A few unexpected things happened here, most ending in him hurt in some kind of way or either losing or throwing away items from the lack of space in his backpack, even if it was way more generous that carrying them in the pockets of his pants. 

Brushing every little thought off, he flipped the lid open, inspecting the insides of the container. 

A piece of paper, in the shape of an elongated circle covered a couple of yellowish ingots and a few seeds that had already sprouted from the moisture. 

Intrigued by the papery object, his hand dived for it first, managing to pull it out without ripping it into bits. It also had some sort of string attached to it, almost as if used to tie it around something and name it. A name tag. 

The next thing that he dragged out were the seeds which had a faint scent of the outside world, thus making George feel the loneliness start slithering up on him once again. He liked exploring the underground part of this land but he'd also took a liking to busying himself on the surface, tending to what animals he could feed from the little he had, brushing them and fending them from the vicious waters of the river. 

Lastly, the two ingots got taken out and were attentively inspected, turned to the side, then upside-down and lastly to their original position. These ones seemed to be made by a factory as each of them read, in bold letters on the top right, 'GOLD' indicating the mineral they were produced from. Under the striking name, a date and a serial number were also engraved into the bar, number which didn't necessarily faze George as he didn't know what purpose they served. 

Once the 'treasure' was put into his backpack and he also made sure it had no chance of getting ripped under the weight, he stood up but noticed, with a slight grimace now washing over his face, that the torch he used up until now to light his path had died out. It rolled into a puddle of water and the cloth on top absorbed too much liquid to be able to be caught on fire once again. He left it there and sat up, brushing the dust off from his trousers and shirt. 

The way back to where he fell from the pool of water wasn't that complex but the fact that his only source of light was now laying in a spill was making things even harder for him. 

His stomach was growling, emitting all kinds of unnatural noises, some of them even covering the ambiental sounds from the cave, perturbing the somewhat comfortable silence the boy fell into. 

Immediately after reaching the little hole he mined through, he climbed up on some sort of gravel 'mountain' and up to the underground water pond he splashed into, also the place where he abandoned his formerly beloved tools. 

And there it was, a thin ray of light from the cracks in the ceiling and he knew one fact for sure. He was out of the caves if his hands could pull him up over the ledge and onto the safer part of the stone. 

With the last bit of strength he had left, he heaved an immense sigh as it was done. He was up and almost unhurt, if not for the hole in his shoulder from the arrow, which he obviously didn't pull out but it escaped by moving too much, the burn from a few lava drips and the four red marks on his arm created by the little spider he wouldn't seem to forget any time soon. 

Squeezing out of the little crack in the wall was a breeze for him, now that he wasn't running for his life from a skeleton, or even worse, a herd of arachnids. 

Surprisingly, it was sunny outside, neither too warm for him, nor cold enough to need a jacket, yet the perfect weather for arranging a little temporary hut which he'd be using as his shelter for the next days, or at least until his permanent house would be done. 

After exploring the forest for a little while, he met the cave that offered him a wet home, then the river which he crossed swiftly, without much effort due to already getting used to its narrower path and lastly, the massive tree in the middle of the plains, where a certain someone was hiding between its thick leaves. 

Dream has been waiting patiently all day. 

His toothy grin grew enormous when he noticed George's clothes all wrinkled and dusty but came to halt when the glasses were nowhere to be found. Stupidly enough, he leaned a little bit too much over the branch he was on, making it snap, but not as much as to give his whole camouflage out. 

Once the blonde found a thicker and sturdier looking side of the tree, he took cover on it and inspected the other's next movements. 

He began making a chest and stuffing his whole backpack into it, finally pulling out his glasses, left unscratched from being covered all the time. 

_"You got me"_ Dream whispered and began munching on a piece of bread while swinging his legs. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish this fulfilled your not-so-long wait :)) have a great day and thanks for choosing my story <3
> 
> Also I'll be putting the notes from the first chapter here hhh cause it kind of messes with the whole story's notes dunno why :')
> 
> Also also, I've updated the tags of the story and you can probably guess what is going to happen ;] 
> 
> Bits of info! 
> 
> >There exists a respawn system, only that it works to those with internal organs still functioning (meaning if let's say you die and from your corpse is harvested any type of organ, from heart, guts, lungs, to kidneys, bladder, spleen, pancreas, then you do not respawn as the body has been too damaged) so that's why Dream is portrayed as a 'harvester' since he punishes the ones going against his will, indubitably killing them.
> 
> >George is completely unaware of Dream at this point, as well as the respawn system- that's why he is so scared and careful as of now.


	3. Musky Surroundings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something just out of Dream's reach is maybe what interests him.

The night had fallen, washing the whole plains in a thin layer of lilac shine, outlining a figure that hastily worked on a little hut, hands moving up and down, then to the sides to make sure that nothing could get from the outside into its cozy yet cramped space. 

It only contained his trusty workbench, the furnace he experimented on in the first few nights and a couple of double chests. The container closer to the door, a simple one made out of sticks tied toghether by string, swallowed the things he deemed most important- all the minerals he'd collected, the only piece of meat he found at the bottom of his backpack, already dried by now and his shiny red apple, then a jacket he spent the rest of the day working on, making sure it was fitting to his size. 

The other crate, on the other hand, was almost filled to the brim with more usual materials, ranging from sticks and planks to pebbles, stones, string and the wool that already began to catch a weird, familiar scent. 

George had already replaced the floor with something which wouldn't stain his shirt, or get moist easily. It was made out of wood, birch planks since he found them a little more pleasing to look at and were also the only wood besides the oak sheltering the hut from an upcoming rain. 

Outside the little room, a terrible wind began to blow the grass into weird patterns, sending them to the ground along with the few bees that still dared to exit a nearby hive he had noticed only now. Clouds almost as dark as black huddled on top of his biome and the ones surrounding it, threatening to unleash a devastating storm, hurting both the animals and mobs who defied it and ventured out of their hiding spot. 

Yet, Dream wasn't worrying one bit. 

He trusted the tree to be able to shelter him from the rain, but also keep steady at the howling wind which only grew in intensity. Undoubtedly, a thunderstorm was coming. 

The hunter had taken enough resources to sustain him for at least a week before he had to get water from somewhere safe, or hunt some wild animals the forest seemed to have an abundance of. At least a few packets of meat with no taste nor scent were wrapped tightly in a cloth, down in his matching green messenger bag, covered by a layer of herbs, thyme, rosemary and all kinds of mint serving the purpose of killing any last trace of odor from the meat as to mask his presence wherever he went. He had bad memories of an incident, when he was much more younger and believed too much of what people said to him, that ended up in him hoping to respawn after being mangled by a pack of wolves. 

_"Ah- Good memories"_ the blonde sing-songed and began swinging his legs one at a time, keeping the same pace for a few moments before switching, bouncing his hand on his knees, hardened from enough falling that this height didn't scare him one bit. He seemed... rather happy at this ungodly moment? 

But this happiness of his wasn't unjustified- Once the rain began to pour and over the immense rattle of the water he could faintly hear George yell, completely annoyed at something inside his hut. 

The door flung open and something gets thrown out, a few more curses from the male to the object and it is left in the mud to sink in. 

Dream had a good vision and could probably announce that it is one of the best, but to see the little, odd shaped thing the other got enraged by was over his human possibilities.

This got him... curious to say the least. Squirming in his seat for a few moments before he hopped onto a much lower and thinner branch proved to be way too stressful even for someone as used to hiding around as he was. 

The little voice in his head screamed at him to go back into the tree and forget about the object but he wasn't having any of it. 

The grass squelched when his heavy boots made contact with it, bending under his weight from the moisture it had gathered. Luckily, it was foggy outside. This offered him some kind of refuge from George's curious eyes, yet he couldn't prepare his heart good enough for the door clicking open while he was in the middle of the space between the tree and the thrown out object. 

The pure fear a deer felt while in the headlights of a truck wasn't even close to a quarter of what he felt right now. 

Dream glanced between the muddy object and his refuge before deciding to make a run for it, hoping to get both in such a short time. 

He got way too lucky as George seemed too busy with something from his chest before he went out the door, stagnating his arrival for at least a few minutes, enough time for the other to pick up the chunk of something before he climbed back, swiftly into his formerly little 'home'. 

After catching his breath, he inspected the now clean item since the rain washed the bits of mud off. It was some kind of alloy, made from iron and gold, mixing into a weird light yellowish color, sprinkled with crushed up lapis. Its texture was really one of a kind he could say, the metals blended with each other quite nicely but the blue mineral seemed to have no place into this. 

_"What are you doing?"_ he cackled and tossed the chunk back, close to its original place in a little puddle, shifting to nap since the storm seemed to still be in full strength. 

Undoubtedly, Dream was right as the rain never ceased until the first few rays of sun woke both of them up, already announcing the beginning of a new day, more or less to him since he'll be trapped here at least until the brunette gets to a relatively big distance. 

Everywhere you looked, the terrain looked flooded and miserable, like the water you received after a good painting session. It was somewhat calm. A few chickens were the first creatures to test whether the terrain was stable enough, whispering among themselves, producing more sound than necessary. The flowers which he cooed at not long ago were all left naked of their petals, looking like alien antennas sprouting from the earth in a weak attempt at reaching sunlight once again. Even the river was violently flooded now, making it almost impossible to pass it, though the fish never seemed happier by their bigger home. 

The last to emerge was the figure he grew accustomed to for the past few days, looking worse than ever. 

George wore a morbidly wrinkled jacket above his shirt and his hair almost looked like a rat's nest. His hands stretched above his head as a few curses escaped his lips once again, proving that he wasn't that innocent as Dream might have thought until now. 

Then it was time to observe his morning routine that always seemed to begin with a little stretching session, like a kitten that just got out of a copious nap. 

Firstly, just after finishing to extend all his muscles, he'd take a brief look around his terrain to inspect it, like he was here for the first time. Then, came a light meal, not because he wanted to but because he was running low on food. He split an apple into quarters and savored each of them while sorting out a few items in his chests, quietly humming to himself. Once his meal was finished, from the fairly generous sack of seeds he collected while playing around on the field, he grabbed a few handfuls and fed the few chickens outside his home, earning himself a couple of satisfied clucks. 

With that, his weird morning routine was done and he had to choose what to do with his day. 

Truthfully all he'd wanted to do was explore the surrounding area more, unsatisfied with the little he knew about each biome's surface. 

He vanished once again into the hut, getting his backpack ready for a small adventure. He cleaned it of the leftover items, throwing away the ones he thought were the least important, only his tools and a bottle of water weighting the bag down and he was ready. 

His jacket was still covering his shoulder as the temperature dropped a good amount making him wake up shivering, something he didn't want to repeat ever again. The glasses which he absolutely adored were standing proudly in his head, doing absolutely nothing good for him. 

Since he had already explored a little the side with the birch forest, George decided to wander into the opposite direction, followed by a curious cow that even tried to eat his shirt one time while he was petting it. 

Without a doubt, he loved animals with all his heart and couldn't help himself. They all seemed to herd around his house but he didn't mind. It all appearead very comforting to him, almost as if he already had his house, his fences and most importantly, his farm to manage feeding them. 

Once, a chicken even followed him around because he was picking the seeds of various flowers and plants to have for later but he wouldn't be left alone unless the little bird would have been fed. It was such a childish memory, yet it made him smile just a little bit more everytime he recalled the moment. 

After thinking for so much and walking aimlessly, he was met with a change of landscape. 

The grass shifted to a darker shade, just as if it was dead but, as a matter of fact, it was thriving in the new environment. Even the trees grew taller than the ones he'd seen before in the birch forest, wearing a wide, flat foliage, protecting the vegetation under it from the sun, only now noticing the sudden change of temperature. It was definitely warmer in here, as the little beads of sweat on his forehead confirmed. 

This didn't stop him, nor scare him one bit. Quite the contrary, he was thrilled to see more biomes like these, going from an extreme to the other. It was exciting 

In the corner of his eye, a small structure rose, almost like his little hut, only that it was made of an orangey wood on top of a white foundation. A house, most certainly abandoned since the door had been ripped out, the windows were all broken, glass threatening to stab the soles of his boots if he dared go any closer, generally just looking desolate, uncared for. 

With very small steps, George made his way to what seemed to be the entrance and peeked inside cautiously. It was filled with old bowls, spoons, various stones probably used for crushing and a knife used for mincing something that released a horrid odor. Some of the recipients still had various substances in them as of the others, they only had the 'materials' in them. 

Maybe it was a little hut used for making herbal medicine or various mixtures for treating wounds. Everything and nothing at the same time could have happened here and it bothered him terribly. Not knowing the source of this was nerve-wracking. 

Inhaling deeply, he stepped in and looked around for anything interesting or odd enough to be worth taking back home with him. 

His eyes fell on a tower of books that each had something written on their spines, in a language he wasn't able to decipher nor he was capable of understanding. They seemed to be the only things worth taking, besides maybe the few coils of string hanged in a little screw by the door. He didn't quite understand why it was abandoned as its location was gorgeous to him, it seemed to be lived in for at least a few years and no one was around. 

It made no sense at all. 

The total number of books he managed to pull out was three, despite trying to take more, they were either rotten or too old to be read. It was truly a shame that from all the tomes, the only few that had life in them were the ones with the simplest covers. 

Content with his discovery, he made a mental note to come back later to check for more things as the sun began to go down now and the way back wasn't as short as he'd like it to be. 

Humming and clapping his hands to a melody he made up on the spot seemed to help him carry the weight of the books better, also scaring away the loneliness and fear of getting shot at by something. 

In record time, he was back to his little hut, to his home. 

Home. 

This word had always been weird to George. You call the place you spend the most time at but a home is where you truly love living. Just like his. This was a place he was proud to call home, even if it wasn't aesthetically pleasing to look at. It provided him a place to look at the books, a roof above his head, protection from the vicious animals outside and a spot to sleep in. It was enough. 

The frail door was swung open and he took a seat on the crafting table, barely able to contain his excitement. When you find something to pass the night faster you have to see what it is all about. And that is exactly what the brunette did. 

Surprisingly, even if the spine was in a language he didn't understand, the entirety of the book was translated to English, something he could finally read. 

The first page read something about a 'Nether' and praising how difficult it was to get there. The next few pages explained in detail the whole dimension, shortly after coming a page with a frame made from something the color of wine, inside a swirling mess of magenta and mauve, with the little tag 'Portal'. 

The rest of the book described the fauna and flora of the few biomes,a few warnings of the piglins' obsession with golden clothing, the soul sand valleys and the sand that stuck to your shoes, slowing you down considerably if you stepped on it and tried to move. A few images of a boar-like beasts filled the next page, along with bipedal creatures, a bright red when in lava and a shivering purple when playing outside. 

Lastly, on the final page of the book was a little note in a clean handwriting. 

_'I discovered something! The diamond pickaxe isn't necessarily needed. The lava can be put in containers and splashed with water to form obsidian, making the portal frame at least two times faster...'_ the dots left much to desire from the note but it also made the boy think harder about it. 

"Oh" his voice sounded weak, maybe due to not eating for almost a whole day but he realized something. In fact, he could make a portal if he found any of the 'lava lakes' the author seemed to talk about fondly in this book. 

Firstly, he had to get some food for himself, something better than an apple or a few berries that turned out to be poisonous from the forest. 

The wolf pack that has also been feeding him seemed to vanish in plain sight as he hasn't seen neither of the two parents nor the pup he remebered feeding once. It seemed that he had to sacrifice an animal the old fashioned way. 

But this was for future George to worry about. The present George laid on a chest and used his jacket as a pillow, mind plummeting into a deep sleep. The rest of the night went by smoothly, without any incidents or animals trying to get inside his house, leaving him to get some decent rest for the first time in a while. 

The sun rose slowly but he was long awake, sharpening his sword and stitching a couple generous bags toghether, one for uncooked meat and one for the one he was going to prepare after the hunt. 

It seemed to be a little colder than usual, more humid even, so his pillow was now put to good use, making sure its owner stays dry and warm. 

The 'simple' forest in front of him bustled with life and he decided on a chicken that seemed to have already been through life, moving a little bit slower than the others. 

As much as he loved them, they had to be sacrificed if he wanted to live. He was on top of the food chain after all. The boy wasn't a picky eater either, so all kinds of berries and fruits were ingested by him, some of them turning out to be the worst ever. A single type of berries had the same effect as the spider bite, making him nauseated and dizzy, but he couldn't even remember the color or size. 

Coming back to the gathering of food, the chicken had been long subdued and he was working on getting the organs from inside, making sure to keep the gallbladder intact. If it popped,the whole meat surrounding it would have a weird, bitter taste and he didn't want to throw away anything more than the bones and guts. 

The process went by fast and he managed to gather a good chunk of breast, the two wings and its back legs, without much effort as the bones broke easily under his knife. 

When the sun was highest in the sky, he began walking back to his house, arms stained almost to the elbow with blood, a small splatter on the side of his shirt. 

In front of his house he had to look around for something to place the carcass on and then go dispose of it but eventually threw it on the ground. 

Over his head, Dream watched intently. 

The sight triggered some kind of reaction in his brain, maybe of confusion, of curiosity or even of admiration, even going to the extent of fear. The blonde wouldn't lie to anyone when he said that the thin male looked a little scary with blood all over him. 

As always, his legs swinged back and forth, stopping before he hit he bark to avoid alerting the other of his position. 

_"Woowie"_ Dream whispered and eyed the clean carcass of the chicken. 

As much as he looked to be very bad at surviving, even in this friendly environment, the butchering was executed perfectly, cutting right over the ribs, the spine and lastly the neck. Then, he noticed the growing smell of meat being cooked, then a scent of burned meat and a curse from inside the hut. 

_"I take back my 'wow'.."_ he chuckled quietly and took a sip of his water, inspecting the surrounding biomes. 

Being 'taller' sure proved to be an advantage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for choosing my story <3
> 
> If you have any questions about the chapter, I can surely answer them!
> 
> And if you feel confused about anything at all do not hesitate to contact my discord (it's in my profile :D)


	4. Mandatory Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George occupies himself with building for almost a week until something, or rather, someone piques his interest.

A few days, close to a week had passed since the chicken incident yet George didn't stay put a moment at all. 

He'd spend an hour everyday walking to a plentiful forest as to not damage the one close to him, then spend at least half a day chopping trees, making them the right size for his little project, and the rest of the time until sunset was allocated to carrying them back to his hut, in a weird storage system made out of sticks tied toghether. 

The physical work surely killed his muscles and on the last day of labor he was barely able to hold the axe and swing it. Scared of hurting both the animals surrounding the area and himself, he decided to collect other materials that could be used to make his life just a little bit easier. 

Entire bags got filled with pebbles, flowers he'd use to make dye, different kinds of feathers, pieces of wool and plucks of fur. 

Finally, once all the things were gathered and the sun rose, it was time to mark the terrain, seeing where the farms and fences could go, how it would be all positioned in the end. What better tool to make the outlines rather than a sharp stick? 

The brunette mentally prepared himself and began with the first major shape, a thick 'L', which made the foundation of his house, under the tall oak tree providing of a much needed shade right now. Secondly, a few dashed lines, a little further than the future house, represented the contour of the two fences, each designed a little bit different to fulfill the necessities of two different animals. At the end, after making sure that the measurements were close to what he had in mind, the farms were defined somewhere near the river so he could easily water them. 

"There you go" He proudly announced and glanced between the wobbly lines, then back to his little hut and smiled, content with the work done by him. 

Now, the part he wasn't that fond of- actually building the fences and foundation, as the start of his first day from the unnoficial 'building week'. 

Slowly but surely, progress was made as the fence, which was pathetic at first turned out quite nicely after giving it hours after hours of his love, attention and dedication. Inside the big enclosure were supposed to be two wide containers, one for water and the other one for the food. A structure, almost like a roof was going to shelter animals from the rain, the sometimes howling wind and, of course, the bright sun. 

Not only did he think in advance, but also sculpted into two big chunks of stone the desired shape, even going to the extent of adding a texture, unintentional as he wasn't going to risk breaking the whole thing after working on it for so much. One of them was a little taller and wider, as for the other, it was close to a square, half the height of the first one, made from a smoother kind of stone. 

They were also very dense, resulting in an enormous weigh for two stone 'sculptures', a third of their original size. 

On the second day, he had managed to finish the chicken coop, now able to lure them in the safe house, away from the hungry wolves that lurked in the forest and to the domesticity of his care. Only a few handfuls of seeds were used to get five of the most curious birds in, having to chase after the sixth for ten minutes while also offering it seeds. 

The view was amusing but Dream found it completely hilarious, cackling, almost choking on his water a few times, threatening to give away his camouflage. He broke a smaller branch while looking for one to support his shaking body, suddenly stopping altogether, resuming to watch George chase the creature around, completely unaware of his stalker. 

Much to his surprise, the other managed to catch the chicken a few times before accidentally breaking one of its wings, stopping the chase as he saw it twist and squirm in pain, tumbling to the ground while producing some agonizing sounds. 

_"Yikes"_ was all that the blonde could mutter when he noticed the wing bend in an unnatural position, stopping the little show he was watching. 

The animal's pain could be stopped very easily by twisting its neck, but if it were to happen to him or George, it would be way more complicated to trigger the process of respawning. 

A few methods Dream found effective in killing someone proved to be the simple poisoning with berries or just jerking their head the fastest you could, putting as much strength as possible. 

Even if he tried to make a cast for it, he didn't have the necessary materials neither the veterinary preparation for that. 

It seems that George had the same idea as Dream as he approached the animal, putting his hand around its head, looking away while biting his lips and the undeniable crunch echoed in the silent plain. Something glistened in the sun, falling from his face onto the ground and the hunter caught a glimpse of that since the accident happened under the thick foliage he was in. 

_Tears?_

_Why was he crying?_

_Wasn't he the one that produced this?_

His head swirled with all kinds of thoughts yet he couldn't help but feel sorry for him. 

He was just having fun afterall, with clearly no intention to hurt the animal which now stood in his lap, bleeding silently while still spasming once in a while. 

What surprised him even more was George's hand that came to carefully caress the formerly white feathers while sobbing silently, indicated by his chest going up and down at odd intervals.

He hasn't cried in so long that he could barely remember how it felt, he couldn't almost recall the moment he saw _someone else_ shed a tear. 

It was a weird thing to see for him now since his days were mainly spent alone, away from contact with other humans, yet the vicinity of someone gave him some kind of _odd comfort_ he seemed to long for. 

Refusing to look at the desolate sight anymore, he closed his eyes and shuffled for something in his bag, a bottle of water, only to find all of them almost empty. 

With eyes as big as frying pans, he opened the bag and noticed that his pocket knife he forgot to put the lock on, commited one of the worst crimes imaginable. All of the bottles had a small hole in them from shifting the bag all day from branch to branch, a trail of wetness going from his spot down to the roots of the tree, along the brownish skin of the tree, pointing directly at his location. 

Luckily, George was too busy with crying while butchering the chicken to pay any attention to something else than his fingers and the warm meat. 

Letting out a sigh he didn't know he was holding in, Dream silently prayed to every little god, no matter the religion, that the sun went down faster only to be able to get some water. His mouth began to feel weirdly dry since he was used to drinking way more water than normal for someone his size and its absence started to imprint itself in his restlessness. 

The blonde bounced, shuffled and did everything he could to distract himself while the scent of cooked meat made its way back to his spot, only now realizing that he spent most of the days vegetating. 

His bones crackled and popped everytime he stretched a little more and he decided to sneak out of his spot to hunt for something, not because he was hungry but because he needed the exercise. 

Since the other now seemed busy with tying toghether planks to make a sturdy fence, he slithered out of the tree and into the thick birch forest, vanishing into the darkness. 

Everything seemed way calmer here than the constant stress he lived in back in his tree. Here, it didn't matter if he was seen or not as he could easily dissappear once again, making one think they halucinated. The crickets began to sing a melody unknown to him as he ventured deeper into the woods, looking for something to do, or rather, for something to take his pent up frustration on. 

It wasn't exactly easy to stay still all this time while he watched his future victim have the best time of his life, except, well, a few moments where he was miserable enough to be killed on the spot, yet he didn't take his chance. 

Somehow, it was intriguing to watch him grow like a plant, from a dry seed, the stage he was when he first spawned to a petite version of the much healthier plant, something he came close to achieving right now, maturing a long process of figuring things out before they happened, seemingly very far away from him, since he cried over a chicken. 

_"Ew, pity"_ Dream stuck his tongue out and let out a weird chortle just before he reached a water spring, at the start of a cave which swallowed the liquid greedily, leaving only the muddy remains for him to take. 

Deciding to revoke its right to fresh water, he dipped his hands and let water pool in it, reflecting his unnatural figure. 

Covering the top half of his face, he had a white, round mask, or as white as it could be through all this time of traveling, with an unsettling yet dumb little smiley face, drawn by yours truly, thinking it would look nicely. His hair was golden even in the weird lighting and if it grew only a few inches longer, he could tie some of it into a small ponytail to keep it from getting in his eyes. 

Over his torso he only wore a lime colored hoodie, also stained by the time's uncensored passing, full of various stains that ceased to wash out, mainly of blood and oil from repairing around his own home. The sleeves were always pulled up to his elbows, leaving his forearms naked if not for the fingerless gloves covering his palms, already streaked by various scars and marks. The scar he bragged most about was the one around his neck, the one that looked like a collar from when he was decapitated by an accident. One similar to this was on his right arm, right in the middle of his forearm, tangling with other 'beauty spots'. 

Underneath the mask, hid his nose and cheeks, dirty with freckles of various shapes and colors, some closer to the color of his hair and some closer to the mud that began to grow under him from the water flowing out of his hands. His sharp-toothed grin was omnipresent and he almost grew tired of seeing it in every mirroring he came by, suddenly feeling the corner of his mouth stop stretching, falling into a neutral state. The mossy orbs he uses for vision were hidden away behind an abundant layer of blonde lashes, similar to a female's. 

Surely, this can be one of the reasons for hiding his face, if not to get recognized where he traveled for various trades and deals he threatened to call off any moment out of pure mischief. 

Undoubtedly, he was one of the most mischievous persons this land had the uncertainty of carrying. 

Chaos was almost his first name, if not for the pathetic nickname, Dream. 

It wasn't made by him or any of his friends, but by the townsfolk after seeing few of his many crimes, where he left the organs in a smile face, the heart always the right eye and the brain being the left one, then, for the mouth he'd use what he felt like at the moment, not having a decided pattern. 

The rumor he was most proud of creating was that after you died and you dreamed of a valley so green it could damage your eyes, then after you sat up the grass died, it meant that Dream was denying you of your use of respawning, but who was there to confirm that. 

Finally snapping back to the crickets that grew angrier and angrier at the loss of action and the water already overflowing his palms, he washed his hands and arms, along with his face after putting the mask down for a brief moment. 

He truly needed this sort of escape from his life as a koala in the tree. 

He dried his face with one of his sleeves and slid the mask on without muttering any words or producing any sounds, deciding to also let his sleeves free since red marks began to bite at the flesh on his elbows, seemingly tired of being strangled under the elastic. 

The blonde was done with his little fashion session and he decided to wander around the forest looking for another source of water. The spring was angled weirdly and the water could barely fill his hands, a bottle apparently impossible. 

His heavy boots collided softly with the more greenish and saturated grass, biting at the terrain underneath them. They had some kind of reinforcements made from iron, protecting the already sturdy toe cap from possible accidents, something similar to this also present on the soles, protecting it from any spikes or thorns from sticking to the boot. 

After what felt like the whole night, he began walking back with his water bottle empty, deciding to fill it from the river and hope he didn't catch some kind of disease to need to go back home. 

The trip back was fairly short as he already began to know his way around the forest. It was a necessity if he wanted to keep being invisible, or at least the least visible to George. 

The familiar sight of the dim hut came before him and he crouched to the river, enjoying the sight of a small school of salmon splashing by him, in a taunting way, mocking the fact they were free until the end of time. 

He dipped the only bottle he had left unharmed and hummed contently while the bubbles of air left the plastic, floated to the surface and dissipated into the atmosphere. His eyes were stuck to the recipient and he could shamefully affirm that he didn't pay any attention to the sound of a door opening and closing, the somewhat familiar voice echoing through the plains over to his spot. 

"Hello?" the voice called out to him, heart immediately beginning to beat double its normal pace "Hello!?" again, the voice yelled out to him to cover the immense distance between them. 

Only then his vision was raised to meet George's curious one. 

The bottle had been long forgotten, now floating aimlessly over the course of the river, into the darkness of the two forests meeting and shading the land even more from the faint light reflected by the moon. Even the river seemed to slow down noticeably, the fish stopping entirely to watch curiously as to why Dream retracted himself so swiftly. 

"H-Hey!" George stammered out when he noticed the figure running away into the forest, similar to a wild animal but he surely knew it was human. No animals he knew the existence of would come to a river to drink water, but also bring a water bottle to fill for later. They just weren't that advanced. 

Left dumbfounded and more curious than ever, the brunette took a few steps towards the direction the other vanished into the forest at but eventually gave up. If they were that scared to be seen then it's best he leaves them to their travels. He didn't want to come of as rude either. 

His head was still swirling with all kinds of thoughts but he grabbed the second book from his not-so-impressive collection and laid down on the chest, now a little more comfortable since he filled a long rectangle of material with the wool he collected over the days. His head was rested on the bunched up jacket, too tired to process the words he was reading. Crying was too damn draining, almost knocking him out the second he finished with butchering up the... animal, yet he decided to keep awake to not throw away a day of possible work. 

He worked on the fences a little, making them just a little safer for him to walk around and not scratch his hands on the wood. Even the roof to the little shelter he was making was moved a few times before he found the position most likely to protect the animals best. 

Then, the sun began to go down and his day of work was finished, resuming to fiddle with the gate mechanism for the fence, something he could use to get in and out without risking to break his legs jumping over. 

The night had been silent until, no matter how much he tried to go back to sleep, something in the back of his head was practically yelling at him to go and look outside for any threats. It hasn't lied to him in a long time so he decided to trust it once more, proving to be the best thing to do. 

When he called out to the figure from outside, he could feel its fear start radiating, and when his eyes met the dumb little dots servings as the eyes of a smiley face, plastered on the mask, he could barely breath from the tension in the air, the same press to his lungs as when he first felt watched a few days ago, but brushed the thought off. 

He may be inexperienced but he surely wasn't stupid. The weird sensation as someone was near him and always peering curiously over everything he did, seemingly laughing at his little mistakes and silently cheering for every success he had never left him since the second day of his arrival. Yet, with all the pressure of this never-ending concern of his, sometimes, but only when he was either underground or far away from home, the eyes seemed to close and he could breath carelessly, for the first time in days. 

After reading but not understanding a word his eyes looked upon, he decided to finally close the book and chuck it somewhere close, somewhat careful of its already worn out cover and frail pages. 

His eyes closed tiredly and a small sigh flew past the little space between his lips, carrying the weight of all his worries. Even the soft plush of the pillow now seemingly matched the hard stone floor he slept a couple of days on, the jacket digging like nails into the back of his head, the zipper biting at the soft cartilage of his ears and the air growing hotter and hotter with each breath he let out. 

Squirming only proved to bother him more, feeling warmer and warmer than when he last moved. 

What happened? 

Maybe it was something he ate or... 

_The river water_

His thirst after working on the fence all day was quenched only by the cold, fast water flowing in the river, not thinking once about how nasty it could end up being. Now he highly regretted the decision he made in the spur of the moment. 

"Damn it" He moaned in pain at the sudden ache in his stomach and head, both hitting at the same time, knocking him out in a perturbed sleep, until the next day's noon. 

The chickens inside the coop clucked and bucked all morning, growing quieter since the noise they made didn't seem to even go past the hut's walls, finally, settling on sleeping in the shade of the roof, warming the single egg in a dried grass nest. A solitary cow wandered by, leaning against the fence in the refuge of its cool cover, falling into a deep slumber, making all kinds of satisfied noises at the invigorating sensation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hhh sorry that it's a little shorter than the usual stuff and not that interesting :')
> 
> Also, a question for all the folk reading this-
> 
> Would it be okay if I used some more rude cuss words since I have something in mind? If not, let me know :) 
> 
> Hope you liked it and thanks for reading my story <3
> 
> If you have any questions don't hesitate to ask! :D


	5. Ten Feet Below

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A singular fish seemed to be the price for George's relentless happiness.

The sun was highest in the sky, one of its rays shuffling between the little holes in George's hut he forgot to patch since the storm a while ago, and finally landing on one of his eyes, starting to wake the male up.

With a groan, he rose and placed his feet on the ground without getting up or making any gesture that'd indicate him feeling any better. 

His stomach was still bubbling weirdly, now eating at its own walls from the acid starved of food. 

Deciding to firstly stretch and then grab one of the few pieces of cooked meat he still hasn't gotten to dry, he stepped outside and inhaled at the scent of fresh grass that never seemed to cease in the peaceful plains

Half of the day was already gone by what the flaming ball in the sky signaled and only now, one of his biggest worries washed over him. The animals weren't fed since yesterday and they were probably very agitated by now.

After he grabbed the generous bag of various seeds, he made his way behind the hut, a little more further than the half finished foundation. 

Much to his surprise, both the chickens and a stray cow were sleeping comfortably in the shade of his shelter, also enjoying the light beach breeze as much as he did on such a torrid day.

He bent lightly over the fence and placed a few handfuls of food in its designated container, now going for his long forgotten bucket to also bring them some water since the one from yesterday was already warm and dirty with feathers. 

The river wasn't far and neither his hut was so that was something he liked in his strategic build. He had everything really close to him.

At the clang of the bucket accidentally hitting the stone designated for holding the water, the creatures woke up and began walking over curiously, settling on eating quietly while the brunnete walked back into the shade of the tall, lavish tree.

The headache never seemed to go away, mainly ignoring it when he had to feed the animals and wash his face in the cold water. He needed something similar to a distraction so he wouldn't have to think about his aches anymore. Maybe trying to make new things at his trusty work bench would prove to be highly effective as a short term treatment.

Postponing his journey back into his home for at least another ten minutes, he fell into a comfortable nap, his rosy cheeks gently carresed by the wind, while his body got hugged by the much richer grass in this area since he has been using the bone's marrow and calcium inside of them to enrich the soil around his future flower garden and farm.

The chest that carried so much weight was now raising and falling carelessly, at a very precise interval, or when he shifted his position to a more comfortable one, rising a few times faster than usual. 

The wet tongue of an animal picking at his lips woke him up and he couldn't manage but chuckle lightly while shoving the cow's head away, but to no avail as the animal kneeled next to him, settling its head on one of the thicker roots, now serving as a rocky pillow. George gave her a last few pets on her silky forehead before he sat up and opened the door to his home, grabbing the coil of string, his carving knife and a few longer pieces of wood to make something.

Deciding that inside the little room the temperature was unbearable, the boy resumed his spot next to the cow, enjoying the pleased wheezing she emitted when occasionally pet by his slightly calloused hands.

From a small cube of wood he began to sculpt something the size of a hook, barely remembering how to make it actually work, not just as an art piece. 

It needed to actually have a small barb so the fish wouldn't be able to get out of the trap, even if they really wanted to. The only real way of getting out was by either George wriggling the hook out of their mouth or them breaking their gills to make the thing come out. 

He didn't like doing this much, knowing that it would probably hurt deeply the entirety school of salmon in the river, even making it disband, yet he had an idea.

In one of the books he skipped its chapters to a random one, was a little folk tale about a girl that befriended a dolphin and they both loved each other very much. The little girl fed it once a fish and the mammal wouldn't stop splashing, whistling and clicking until she followed him to a little sand peninsula where the creature stopped and began making all kinds of noises once again. With her bare hands, she dug through the fine sand and discovered a oddly new chest, filled with all kinds of goodies, ranging from iron and gold ingots to the better diamonds and rarer emeralds. The only item native to the buried treasure was the heart of the sea, something shaped like an orb, made from two different blue colored halves. 

The book also explained how to craft a conduit, something he hadn't understood the first time it was presented in the tome, barely grasping the concept the second time he actually paid attention to the lecture. 

With precise movements he made a little hole in the end of one of the longer sticks and measured the string so it would be slightly longer than the wood, leaving only the silent work of carving the hook from his little square of birch wood.

Very careful to not accidentally let the knife slash through his palm but also aware of his companion's presence, a crooked hook emerged after another ten minutes of work, above the time of making sure the stick was sturdy enough, the string wouldn't start falling apart at every little movement and the rod had a hole at the end to connect with the rest of the tool.

The only things left to make were a bobber which he already had a resolve for, but most importantly, the bait he would be using to catch a single fish, the only sacrifice he'd need to make for now at least.

He'd be lying if he said that the guts left untouched by the wolves in the forest hadn't already been consumed by hungry fly larvae, just perfect for using as a one-time bait since touching them was surely something he didn't want to deal with soon.

Pleased with how the pieces aligned into a primitive rod, he sat up and gave one final stroke to the now sleeping mammal, proceeding to make his way to his home to grab the last couple of things necessary. Firstly, a counterweight so the thing would actually go under the surface, best made out of iron or something denser than that, and secondly, a bobber which he'll be making from the remaining pieces of wood, the last piece to get attached.

Already quite handy with the knife, the sculpting was finished in half the necessary time and in the leftover moments he could finish the tool that would probably end up in a dark corner, away from his interest as fish wasn't particularly to his taste, too difficult to both catch and gut for him.

Overflowing with excitement, he skipped to the narrower part of the river, making his way into the forest, an odd scent of rotten meat swirling into his nostrils, all the way into his brain, thus making his eyes and mouth water from the new sensation. 

Too late to go back and get a recipient to put the worms in, he scooped a few into his palm and secured them by closing it into a fist, hurrying to get the farthest from the corpse as possible. 

It wasn't exactly at the edge of the forest but the fact that the wind blew everyday at a new angle and from another direction only worsened the situation. He would have perhaps acted smarter if he instead, dug a little hole for it. But if the body wasn't there then the flies wouldn't have a place for their precious offsprings and he'd end up baitless. 

Now, the only thing left to do was test the little angler deep inside of him.

He sat on the edge of the river and took the hook in his hand, placing the very much alive worms next to him, careful to not squish them as he had just done to the one between his fingers. A weird, sticky and pinkish liquid came from it, similar to the color of its pulsating skin. 

With one swift motion, the invertebrate was now wiggling into the hook, it's scream silenced by its inexisting mouth. 

As clumsy as he was, one of his feet landed in the water after throwing the rod and losing his balance, barely missing the chance of breaking his ankle, or even better, his neck. The rocks were slippery enough from the seaweed growing on them so he didn't risk sitting on one, the ledge seemingly a more comfortable spot as it sheltered him from the cold waters. 

After the fish resumed their usual playing spot, a few feet away from where he was now lounging on the soft mattress, he casted the line once again, this time remaining with only one foot wet. 

One of the most curious fish wriggled it's way out of the group and began to pick at the hook, visibly unaware of the deadly trap it was getting in, but it didn't matter as the moment the hook moved, it was back to its friends, probably warning them of the unusual visitor they were receiving. 

The second cast was also a very poor attempt at fishing since the bait set itself free, ending up in one of the salmon's never-full bellies, away from George's now skilled hands in folding worms on the hook. 

Surprisingly, the third time the hook was thrown into the fast waters, a clueless salmon swam up to it and nibbled on it for a short moment before swallowing it whole. 

Only a short tug upwards was necessary to shove the hook deep into the gills of the unlucky fish, now battling with the strong string to set itself free. 

The stick was threatening to give up under the weight of the fish, way fatter than any he'd seen before. 

"Not that hungry, are we? " George wheezed at the round fish now wriggling mid-air, it's fins already starting to slow down due to the loss of water, or more likely the loss of oxigen it was getting from the water. 

It convulsed a few times while outside the water before falling limp, making it way easier for him to get the hook out of its already bloody gills. 

In the process of figuring out how to untangle the organs and the wooden object, he ended up accidentally cutting himself in one of the sharper gills, his own blood mixing with the slimy liquid covering the salmon. 

The brunette grimaced lightly and once the tool was set free, he abandoned it for a moment while grabbing the fish by the gill's latch, lifting it easily even if it was more robust than any other species he'd seen. Then, the rod was picked up, careful to not stab himself, he set it over his shoulder, staining the stick with the mixed up cruor, almost dried up in the light breeze. 

Once he neared his hut, the same weirdly familiar sensation washed over him, like a wave that postponed its arrival for much time. 

He felt... _watched_. 

The door was opened and just as fast, the salmon was placed somewhere he had easy access to it, on the crafting table. Then, he proceeded to look for an unexisting item outside, seeming like he was just busy when in reality, he was inspecting the surrounding area, especially the first few layers of trees from the birch forest. His gut also instructed him to raise his eyes to the thick foliage of the oak tree shading him, meeting only empty branches. 

Though, something got his attention. 

On the side right above him was like a little shelter as the lack of leaves showed him. A few thinner branches were missing, told by the narrow parts of peeled bark from when they were cut off. On the other side, moss had already begun to grow, enjoying the moisture produced by something hung on a thicker branch now bent downwards. 

Had someone watched him? 

If they did, _did they enjoy themselves at least_? 

George bit the inside of his cheeks nervously and turned around once again, feeling his heart sink to the ground at the empty forest. Somehow, somewhen, he was expecting to see someone pop out of the forest, probably to rob the little he had. 

With a little wave of his hand, he dismissed the thought and got inside his home, reaching out to the tome, left open precisely at the story. 

Re-reading it proved to be the best thing to do since a few steps of the whole process were hazy to him, vaguely remembering them. 

Technically, it was very simple 'quest'. 

The weather had to be pleasing, not too hot to make the water come out through the skin, nor too cold to need another layer of clothing, even the sun had to be close to setting, just when the sky was purplish in color, the book explained this part most precisely. The rest, something even a child could comprehend was structured in a small paragraph, as so: 

_'-and when the dolphin is near the shore, show it the fish and wiggle it in the air tentatively to get its attention. When it is close enough that it's beak is in the shallowest of waters, feed it to it and watch its direction. Don't lose it. Follow it and the treasure should be in a small area around where it stopped._

_Warning. Sometimes they trick humans as they started to understand their desire for wealth._

George peeked curiously at the last phrase, blinking a few times confused. 

"Wow- What a scam.." he laughed, half amused but half worried to not get tricked by a marine animal, seemingly more inteligent than some people. 

Deciding to not delay this small escape from his shelduled days, he sat up, picked the salmon and made his way towards the sandy biome, already feeling the light scent of salt in the breeze. 

His eyes scanned the area, delighted at the progress he was making everyday, even if he seemed more bothered by a folk tale rather than his future home, yet he couldn't care less. 

The chickens he'd taken a very good care of until now were all huddled up in one of the corners, guarding the one egg the brunette forgot to pick, probably going to let them hatch it soon. Even the stray cow he fed a few times was lounged somewhere near, most certainly under the shade of some dense vegetation and close to a source of water. 

Both enclosures were finished but the mammal didn't seem fazed by it, preferring its unlimited freedom of roaming around. 

And George wasn't minding that one bit. 

In fact, he would have let the chickens free too if he didn't plan on making most of the land around the river into a enormous farm, for both the seeds he found in the mineshaft and the ordinary wheat seeds. 

He took care of some of the seeds by placing them into cotton balls and watering them every few days, making the little sprouts even more flourished. 

Snapped out of his thought by the feeling of sinking into the grainy terrain, he glanced down and then back up immediately, smiling at the wide blue stripe that stretched before him. 

The sun barely began to start its downward journey, meaning he still had a decent amount of time to wait out, before the time was 'right'. He didn't mind as a couple of smaller and more frail trees offered him a tattered shadow he could use to lay in. 

His unfed body laid negligently in the dry grass, ears kissed by the various noises the sea produced- from the sound of waves crashing down onto the land, its foam dying out soon after, accompanied by its always-present companions, at least a dozen of seagulls that were remarkably silent, only the slight flutter of wings audible over the trill of a faraway robin, singing the life out of itself. 

He lowered the glasses over his eyes and opened them to look around as the ominous presence resumed its spot in his brain, breaking the possibility of getting any possible sleep while resting here. 

His muddy eyes scanned the area around him at least five times by now, but nothing could be found. He even checked the branches above him to make sure but he didn't seem to look once into the direction of the ocean, as the whistling of a dolphin startled him terribly. 

He gasped and reached for both his heart and the fish at the same time, scrambling to his feet. His glasses proved to be useless now, even making him trip due to the obstructed vision it gave him, so he fixed them up on his head with his elbow, accidentally hitting at the bridge of his nose. 

The pain was minimized as he neared the shore and clicked his tongue at the dolphin a few times, the animal responding in almost the same tone of clicking. This bough a small smile to his lips as the salmon was pushed on the surface, in the direction of the mammal, not wanting to make it swim into the shallow water, maybe even risk hurting it if it got caught in the sand.

The creature let out a series of satisfied sounds and swallowed the fish whole, clearly pleased with its size. 

Then, it splashed a few times before starting to glide through the water, into the direction of the savanna, indicated by the water shifting a few shades greener due to the excess seaweed and kelp growing by the stones deep into the ocean. Just as he began, the dolphin stopped and pushed its beak in the shallow waters, making a little hole by digging continously, now going back into the caring depths, looking for his family and friends to go hunting for food, even if it had just been fed. 

Now, the only thing left was to begin digging in the warm sand, mentally cursing that he didn't bring his shovel. He didn't think the dolphin would lead him anywhere to be honest, you couldn't blame him for not believing into a simple story. 

After sand began building under his nails, a generous tower of it forming next to him from scooping it up and throwing it away from the hole, the tips of his fingers hit something hard, with the texture he knew too well. 

Even at this exact moment he didn't believe in it and thought that they were the remains of a ship, some kind of pieces of leftover ruins of a house or even a tree that fell and got covered by the constant waves.

At least, now he could say that he'd seen them all. 

Since the top lid of the container was now uncovered, the boy flipped it open and peered at its insides, scattered with all kinds of ores, a couple of fish skeletons, long eaten by all kinds of worms and snakes that had access to it when it was still close to the surface, and of course, the obnoxious sphere he didn't know what to do with, the heart of the sea.

The only things he was interested in were a couple of octogonal shaped pieces of a turquoise stone, scattered between a multitude of hexagonal emeralds, shining brightly in the last specks of light present from the clouded sky. 

Where could he carry all kinds of items without them falling from his arms if his backpack was left home? 

A very intelligent answer came from his drained brain. He could use his shirt as a pouch since there was absolutely no way he'd go back here another couple of times so he could get everything. 

Easier said than done since the fabric could give up and rip anytime if he was too rough with it, though he had to give it a try. 

He took the front side and rose it, putting everything in it, giggling childishly at the irregular bump that formed and sat up, wobbling, unused to the extra weight in front. 

Everything fell silent with his arrival at the hut, hurrying to set everything down before he tore the thing open. One last look at the treasure and he could count the minerals without the sensation of being watched. 

He ended up with two bulky pieces of diamonds, a total of seven emeralds, each with a more precise shape than the last, racing to be the best he's ever seen (also the first), a few golden ingots, the famous yet rare item he deemed useless now and the fish skeletons he carried in his hands, thinking that the bones would be useful to use as fertilizer, or to make something with them, a statuette or something, when he had time at least. 

As the inside was too warm for his own liking, he stepped out and looked at the sky, being met with an almost perfectly round moon, if not for the little corner of it missing, accompanied by a thick layer of stars. 

Quietly, he sat down and glanced at the selenian body, hoping that someone, no matter how far or close to him, was looking at it at the same time, sharing an unknown moment. 

A small gasp escaped his lips when he noticed the few constellations he could distinguish, and even more he didn't know about. The light was very bright, or brighter than the dim one he was used to in the few nights, when the moon was barely a thin strip. 

Somewhere, far away, someone was indeed staring at the moon, silently hoping the same exact thing, with his gloved hands under his head, supporting it from falling over the roof he was seated on. 

Dream. 

He was back at his house, on top of a mountain, not visible at all from the plains surrounding it, nor the nearby hills and valleys. 

The house wasn't extraordinary, but it was the first one he'd made, deciding to keep it as a homage to a few friends he... _disposed_ of. 

His eyes glistened in the slate-colored light, gaining a slight cyan shade, as the mask he always wore when outside was thrown carelessly somewhere around. Everything he wore was disheveled and wrinkled from running back when George saw him get the water, silently cursing at how heedless he had been when watching over the other. 

He had even lost his messenger bag in the pure horror of being caught, thus losing his food for a week, a few emeralds he was going to use to trade for some food if he ran out, in a nearby village and his pocket knife he spent so much working on, perfecting the mechanism and sharpening the blade everytime he had a spare moment. 

The blonde didn't even know how the leather strap he secured himself with a few metalic bits had came undone, too focused on running to care one moment. 

He'd been sulking for a while but decided that if he was lucky enough, he'd find it tomorrow since it was closest to his area rather than the birch forest George seemed to patrol every once in a while, looking for things to gather for odd crafting recipes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi hi I've updated my email so like... :} umm maybe go check it if you have questions? No? Unless...? <3
> 
> Sorry for the long wait xdd I was really drained and I couldn't write for a short while, hope this is okay. 
> 
> Also who is ready for some angst? Only me? :') 
> 
> As always, thanks for staying by, reading my story <3 I'm really grateful for all of you little cuties and have a great day/night/journey!! :D


	6. Virulent Endeavors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream's cooking is something to clearly _die_ for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things in this chapter get a little violent so if you're not that comfortable with it I suggest staying away from it <3
> 
> If you're okay with gore, go ahead my friend.

It was pitch black outside, nothing moving or making any sounds, afraid of being washed by Dream's growing disgust at the already tensionate atmosphere.

He was inside the cozy home he took such diligent care of for the past years, careful to fix its every crack and hole the moment it appeared, never missing the opportunity to replace the broken pieces of furniture when he could. 

In one of the corners, far away from his storage, a fireplace crackled satisfied, eating away at the dried logs he just dragged in, producing a tame warmth and a bright yellowish light, making every lantern die of shame in comparison. On the floor laid the thick fur of a polar bear, an immaculate white compared to the dark chocolatey color palette that adorned the house. On the walls, various racks and nails found refuge, displaying his wide collection of tools made from a umber-colored material, covered by a faint, purple shimmer. Next to the fireplace, a sturdy table bore the weight of a machinery holding onto three bottles, used for making all kinds of remedies and brews. Somewhere between the countless chests and the salamander that spat comfort, shown by its yellow and black tiles he made himself, spending almost a few weeks on the tiles only, closer to the containers sat a bed with only one pillow and a certain blonde laying tiredly on it.

His hand searched for something on the crafting table next to it, but eventually gave up since he sharply remebered losing the knife he absolutely adored. A tired groan went by his sharp teeth as he rolled to the side, closing his eyes for what felt like the first time in days. His fastened breathing regulated to a slow rhythm, barely perceptible over the grunts made by the fireplace, soon in need of fuel, but he couldn't be bothered. 

He had made sure to arm the traps outside his house just in case someone ventured to this side of the land, not wanting one bit to get up until the next day, where the journey back to the plentiful plains awaited.

_He woke up and jolted upright, hitting his head on something hard, earning a chuckle from someone sleeping in the top bunk, indicated by a face that appeared next to him, a wide glee painting their face._

_Suddenly, he realized where he was, rubbing his eyes lightly, not wanting it to be true one moment._

_The next time his lids separated he was outside the place he began building his trophy room in, the three faces he remembered too well behind him, laughing at his measly attempt of a trap he set up, making it the first one in the series of ten, getting progressively harder and harder, a intricate puzzle at the end of it, with only one perfect combination, known by him only._

_Vividly, he could remember the pure hatred he felt in that moment, not directed at his friends, but directed towards himself and how much of a pathetic being he was then. He wanted to forget it all, write it all on a paper, place it in a bottle and when it is released on the water, take all his memories with him and start a new life, completely oblivious to the crimes he committed._

_Then, his eyes closed, and for a moment he tasted the freedom of the unseen, only to have it taken away from him once again, at the sight of the immense hole before him._

_This time, Dream's back was met by a pair of hands pushing him, falling deepth into the pit, hearing his bones produce the sickly crunch he grew to hate over time, yet he couldn't feel anything more than warm tears on his cheeks and neck, finally meeting the end of their journey in the collar of the hoodie even then worn._

_He looked up and caught a glimpse of them fleeing back to their shared house, on top of the very mountain he called home at this moment._

_The sensation of the thick mud swallowing his broken limbs whole was somehow nostalgic, yet he couldn't admit how much he hated lying there until a pack of hungry wolves ate him alive, allowing him to respawn a week later. The rain even threatened to drown him a couple of times but the moment it almost reached his face, it stopped and peered down at him sadly, cleaning his face one last time._

_Now, the process repeated itself again, waking up to the familiar view of their elongated table, slightly crooked since their ran out of nails to properly fix its last leg. On it, a few plates with all kinds of cooked vegetables and meats sat, tempting everyone into tasting, yet they all refrained and sat there, holding hands, promising untrue things to each other._

_"I'll keep us all safe" a monotone voice rang out, daring to be the first to break the silence, then fell into a tranquil state for the rest of the dinner._

_"We will never have to worry about materials again! " someone to his left said, but he didn't move his head one bit, slightly annoyed by the cheerful tone it had._

_Lastly, the person right in front of him had opened their mouth to say something, only to be interrupted by a short moment of thinking_

_"Here, we all respect eachother equally" their honeyed voice finished their set of lies as he felt three pair of eyes stare him down, wanting to crawl into a hole and never meet them ever again._

_His mouth opened and he said something, indicated by the three male's satisfied smiles but he never remembered the words. Surely he promised something he'd actually try to support with all his life but only thinking about it made him dizzy._

_Now, the dinner commenced and every once in a while, one of them cracked a few jokes or told a story of their solo travels, the time before they met or a funny anecdote where everyone cackled, smiled and added just to make the atmosphere lighter._

_Only he seemed to be quiet for the whole duration of the evening, enjoying the food and hoping to wake up every moment._

_But that didn't happen as he woke up again, in the forest._

_This memory was still cristal clear to him._

_It was just after he had a fight with them, storming out of the house on a rainy night, with only his hands and eyes to guard himself from the vicious animals and monsters lurking in the dense taiga. He was supposed to cook dinner but promised himself he'd make them his famous berry pudding next day, before he was bombarded with all kinds of accusations and false statements._

_He hadn't stolen once in his life and didn't plan to begin with his closest friends, but they all blamed him for the disappearance of three diamonds, one from each respectively, a few golden ingots from the one with a grave voice and a chest plate from the one with honeyed words._

_The dinner was also meant to mark the last day of work at the room Dream spent his days and nights on but it got interrupted by a childish joke they decided to pull on him, ending up with a bigger problem than they began with._

_Maybe teaching the youngest of the group how to brew poison from nightshade berries proved to be the worst idea they've ever had, since he was quite handy with mixing them in jams and fruity sauces._

_The last time he'd open his eyes this nightmare was when the sight of the familiar kitchen greeted him, like a dog abandoned by its owner, looking for shelter in his love and care._

_In front of him was the poisonous syrup he made sickeningly sweet, so he could excuse himself from pouring it over his piece of the cake. At least four handfuls of the berries were mixed lovingly into it, enough to kill the four of them if they were to all consume it, but luckily everyone knew he wasn't a fan of sweets, liking the pudding more when it was plain._

_One came into the kitchen after another, complimenting him on how sweet it smelled, having the same reply to all:_

_"I added extra sugar for you" his voice was calm, as always, not betraying his horrifying intentions._

_When the main dish was finished, a fat salmon covered by pieces of cut vegetables, enough for all of them, they ate in the same way as always, joking and drinking, this time, Dream also participating in the story-telling._

_He seemed so carefree and giggly, not a single soul being able to guess he had spent the last hours trying to make the berry syrup as concentrated as he could, also mixing in a few more aromate berries to not give out his handiwork._

_When it was time to cut the famous pudding he bragged with, it was served as it had been since the first time, three pieces entirely soaking in syrup and one plain, placed on their each respective spot._

_After they ate, they all went to sleep but the blonde promised he'd wash the dishes, as an apologize for 'stealing' their items and making them mad._

_He bit his bottom lip while grinning weirdly, sharpening the blade he'd use to finish the job he started, a beautifully carved diamond short sword, made for him by a very generous villager._

_Maybe also warning the youngest that if any internal organ was ripped out from your body, you'd never respawn ever again, was the second mistake they made_

_He neared the room they slept in, where two bunk beds sat parallel, between them a long end table filled with all kinds of useless things, from used treasure maps, a note that had the coordinates of the house on them and a drawer full with hoodie and jackets._

_He ate the berries himself a few times to test how they worked, and after eating a handful he always woke up in his bed, in a cold sweat while looking around, hoping no one saw him._

_Just after after ingesting them, he broke out in a hot sweating mess, suddenly feeling his extremities cold, a pain in the chest and a pounding headache that didn't cease until he passed out, feeling his chest convulse angrily at the paralyzed heart, no longer beating._

_The process to respawn, after he counted his friend's death, took around an hour, give or take a few minutes, totally dependent on the location._

_The one with the grave voice seemed to pass out first, already slicing his stomach open while covering his mouth with his left hand to silence his agonized screams. He couldn't move. His muscles were too weak from the lack of oxygen going to them so he laid there, suddenly falling entirely limp._

_A last pellucid memory was of tearing through the layer of skin, fat and lastly muscle of his abdomen, finally feeling the guts he'd been meaning to take our for so long, ripping them out of their place, throwing them somewhere in the middle of the room, refusing to let him respawn and make his existence hell once again._

_The same process, with even more tears rolling down his cheeks was applied to the other bodies laying on the soft, white bed coverings, soon to be colored to something more interesting, blood and pieces of organs._

_Deciding that these would be the first three items added to his trophy room, he plucked out from their bodies the items, ignoring the coagulated blood on them._

_Firstly, from the one with the weirdly monotone voice, a golden crown, filled with all kinds of precious stones, emerald, diamonds and a piece of refined netherite, their single ingot greedily turned into a purely cosmetic item ._

_Secondly, from the one sleeping on the top bunk, the one with their overly cheerful tone, a thick piece of material that shifted from pure white to a light gray at the ends, usually worn around his head to hold his hair._

_Lastly, from the one with honey-dripping voice, the one that he always seemed to bicker with, a checkered black and gray bandana they wore around their neck, under a thick hood, protecting their neck from anything the hoodie left though._

_The only bed left unharmed was his, the bottom bunk, right under the one he seemed to dislike the most, but not for long._

_He laid in it tiredly and closed his eyes, with a sick grin plastered over his red stained face, even letting out a giggle at his success._

_He couldn't let himself become their doormat, could he?_

Dream woke up in a cold sweat, immediately ditching his hoodie to cool himself down since the fireplace had died out somewhen in his sleep, leaving the room in a pleasant warmth. 

He looked around nervously, wiping aggresively at his tear stained eyes, the image of his cozy home bouncing back. The polar bear, sprawled on the floor, ignorant to all his worries, the dormant salamander with its mouth full of burning coals, the chests stacked on top of another, each with another symbol on front, giving away the insides. Even the bed he slept on was way different than the sensation of sinking into the cushion. It was more rigid and didn't allow for a too comfortable sleeping position. 

"FUCK" the blonde yelled, hitting the workbench and felt more tears threatening to fall from his eyes, showing the side he was most scared of surfacing, the pathetic child that didn't live through his golden years, put to work long before he could hold the tools. 

His hands trembled violently, settling on placing them in his lap, shortly after feeling his heartbeat start pacing up once again. 

The eyes so scared of being seen now, looked once again around the room, met by the same things, slowly driving him insane from the constant fear of his friends coming through the door. 

"Please..." he begged but the tears didn't stop, nor the sensation of being watched didn't end, not even the acceleration of his heart. "Please" his fingers curled themselves in his blonde hair, tugging at it harshly, hoping to tear the skull open and throw away his brain, putting a miserable show for the next person to find his base, if someone could climb the dangerously steep mountain. 

Then, the black screen he flashed to between memories was present, this time, never letting anything be seen other than mental pictures of his trophy room, full of eccentric accessories, only three put onto three blocks, the two on the sides made entirely from gold, shining brightly through the artificial light system he made, the one in the middle, a gracious turquoise, which he obviously spent countless days searching for the necessary ores. It held the most important thing to him, the thick stripe of material, slightly bloody from being too scared to wash it, afraid it would tear apart. 

He fell asleep again, only that now he could actually rest and not squirm all night under the grasping claw of the nighmare that never left him alone, terrorizing his nights, the only few hours he had to himself. 

Maybe that's why he didn't sleep much, sometimes staying awake for days at a time, only to avoid the possible surfacing of this cumbersome torture. 

In the morning, he woke up, barely remembering anything that's happened during the night, glad the memory of him crying wasn't present in his mind. 

He carried on with simple chores around the house, after he made himself something to eat, busying himself with cleaning the hearth then dusting the polar bear fur acting as a rug, he sorted a few items from his cluttered chests into the storage system only he knew the order of, finally falling back on the bed, grimacing at its wetness from when he sweated during the night. 

Both the bed sheets and pillow cases were ripped off the bed to be set outside to dry, while he packed a few things in his hoodie, without much storage due to the absence of his messenger bag, laying somewhere on the way to the plains. 

He didn't forget to grab his odd mask from the rooftop, securing it over the top half of his face. 

Then, he peeked over the cliff into the thin river that ate at the terrain surrounding it, making a dent between the nearby plains and hills and his abnormally tall mountain, then rummaged through his pockets, pulling out a sphere, a dark shade of cyan, with a hard shell but something purple inside, obviously liquid and a gas bubble that allowed the thing inside to breathe. 

He chucked the sphere as far away from the water as possible, waiting a few moment before his body shifted to the location where the pearl had landed, making him nauseaus and dizzy for the following minutes, in which he had to lay down to recover, already a little drained from his nightmare. 

After that, he resumed walking, tracing his steps back into the thick birch forest, immediately being met with the sight of his bag, laying lifelessly on the ground, its insides sprawled about. 

Half of the food had already been dragged by forest creatures into their burrows and caves, only a handful of dried meat, a singular apple and half a loaf of bread left, obviously bitten off by a fox of some sort. His eyes scanned the area once again and much to his surprise, the metal bits that snapped off and the leather strap were there, meaning he could fix it in a few minutes. 

Once done with it, also making sure it wouldn't snap open once again, he placed the food inside, just after blowing on it gently, brushing away any blades of grass that wouldn't just fly off. 

But something was clearly missing. 

His knife seemed to have been swallowed by the dirt, growing grass on top of it to mask the dissappearance of said object. The blonde even took a few steps around the area where he found the sack but it was empty apart from the bread crumbles and the droppings of an uncensored animal. 

He knelt next to a taller chunk of grass and rummaged through it. 

He sighed in annoyance and turned around at the sound of steps, expecting to meet some kind of skeleton shaded by the trees, or even a wild animal he didn't already hunt down, but was instead met by a pair of dirty boots and a familiar blue shirt, accompanied by a familiar face and the glasses that never left the top of his head. 

Then, his pocket knife, closed carefully was shoved in front of him, followed by a chuckle from the other. 

"Looking for this?" George asked and retracted his hand, away from where the other could reach "Mister Stalker?" he rose one of his eyebrows and blinked a few times, clearly expecting and answer. 

Dream peered through his mask at the brunette and gave a chuckle _"Ha?"_ was all that he could mutter, already having a slight handicap if he was going to fight him. 

_George had a knife afterall._

"I know you take me for some absolute idiot but don't think ahead of yourself" he crossed his arms and stared him down, making him feel smaller than expected "You think I didn't see the spot in the oak tree, huh? You think I live a blissful life? Without any worries or concerns?" 

The blonde blinked a few times behind his mask and answered while holding a proud grin on his face _"I don't think I can answer that many questions."_

"I don't even need you to" he addmited and threw the knife in front of Dream, walking away "Just get out. I don't want to see that dumb mask of yourself ever again"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To the ones that made it though the chapter I want to thank you for reading it <3
> 
> I hope you liked this type of different chapter and that it didn't upset you that Dream's backstory is so sad because that's what motivated him in the end.


	7. Boiling Precipice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just when George thought he was done for it, he discovers something very interesting.

He still had his bed on the chest, the only addition to it being a long pillow filled with the wool he naked a sheep of, leaving it to look for the shade and cover of the trees rather than its own, natural coat, which he hugged most of the times when he slept, way warmer and comfortable than the jacket. 

After the encounter with his presumed stalker, George couldn't sleep one bit, fidgeting all night at his braveness on the moment, quite impressed at how he seemed to be careless and mature. 

Even the person he recognized as the one getting water from the river seemed surprised but masked it by cracking a joke, he clearly wasn't a fan of. 

He was sure that the knife hit the other over the knees but he couldn't care less. 

He wanted... No- He needed the blonde to stay away from his part of the forest since he clearly didn't want anyone to destroy its natural beauty, the vines he took care of, helping to keep the shade-loving monsters away from him and his animals. 

Speaking of animals, the chickens he lovingly took care of everyday, had already hatched the egg, process which took way shorter than the brunette had expected, more surprised than anything. The baby was a dirty shade of yellow, the area close to his tail, feet and beak tinted with maroon splotches, and he wouldn't shut up all day until George fed it smaller seeds, something it could actually eat. 

It actually gained a name after showing his appreciation of the male caring for him, ending up with the glorious title of 'Pewie' after thinking for no more than five seconds about it. 

Everything seemed calm, even the farm he already began planting seeds in, flourishing in the water it received every couple of days, the sun proving more powerful than ever. The land dried very fast and it really showed when he missed a day of watering, making the plants just a little yellower than usually, though it got fixed by an hour's work. 

Something that needed a lot of work, unlike the crops, was a little structure he'd been planning for doing for a long time, using one of the thick tomes as a manual to actually build it effectively. 

It didn't require too many materials, coming to a total of four iron ingots and a single flint. Three of the pieces would be used to make another bucket since two were needed, the last one to be used along with the creamy rock, for a singular spark required at the end. 

The first thing he did after crawling out of his bed was to stretch and eat something, not wanting to end up like the other day, completely famished from forgetting breakfast. A special treat awaited him at the end of today's meal. One of the shiniest apples he'd ever seen, picked from when he ventured deeper into the forest, when he stumbled upon the pocket knife he looked into for at least a few hours to understand the handiwork of. 

Once everything was done, including the bucket and the process of rummaging through the small gravel patch outside his hut to get the last thing needed, he took the book with the red cover, the longest title but also the most interesting one. 

The Nether. 

That's what the first page read, immediately after that, a picture of an obsidian portal frame, obviously unlit from the hole behind it. 

Already knowing the book by heart, he shuffled through it, to the chapter he needed without much worries of over-looking the pages again. 

The last few files described in high detail the dimensions of the portal and how it wouldn't allow for transport between his world and the Nether if it was too short or thin. Everything he needed to know about it was there. From the diamond pickaxe needed to mine the obsidian, to different techniques, even to the simple process of letting a spark fly into it, finishing the whole thing off. 

But today, he wasn't following the rules of the book, relying only on the omnious words written on a scrap piece of paper. 

_'Two buckets. Move the lava in the desired shape since it hardly flows, water on it, corners can be anything. '_

It didn't help him very much but he began his journey towards the savanna, knowing that there was at least a big enough pool next to the house he raided, not surely remembering its direction either. 

Deciding to let his instincts take over, he followed an imaginary trail through the biomes, until somewhere around the horizon, the faint outline of the hut could be seen, almost looking worse than before since storms ravaged the roof even more. 

Brushing past it, he looked for the barely visible glow of surfaced lava, bubbling angrily at him, seemingly inviting him in for a swim, even if it would end poorly for at least one of them. 

Leaving one bucket and the flint and steel somewhere near the lake, but not too close since he was scared of falling when he picked them up, the brunette walked aimlessly around the savanna, looking for a different kind of pool now, something more calmer and to his liking, a simple water lake. 

Once he found one, he filled the bucket to the brim with the liquid and held onto it for dear life, afraid to lose even a single drop of it, now the most precious thing ever since he walked too much in the scorching sun to get it. 

He looked around the thin vegetation and smiled since no lime hoodie greeted him, even more so the mask he recognized now, a circular one with a crooked smiley face on it. It was more childish than anything he'd seen, clearly not impressed by it. The sight of the blonde that was surely taller than him wearing the mask and the stained red hoodie bough a small smile to his face, by how stupid the combination of colors looked. The fact that he always seemed to have a grin printed on his face made him look even out of place, the first time he'd seen him near the river, when he was neutral, actually caught him off guard. 

Shaking his head and brushing the thoughts off with a physical gesture, he resumed looking at the lava pool with fear. Both out of accidentally pouring it over him and dropping the bucket into it. 

Deciding to commence, he dug a hole in the nearby dirt, exactly six feet as the book instructed, then used some of the dirt to build a structure the portal would be built on, barely sturdy enough to bear his weight when he climbed on it to finish the top region. 

The only thing left now was to move the lava between locations. 

He began with two buckets poured into the hole, splashing water over it soon after, not even letting it flow equally into the corners. As expected, the dark purplish stone emerged, still warm from the water. The process was repeated on one of the sides, almost sliding his hand into the lava a few times since the water bucket was now slippery from it dripping over the edge spilling the cool liquid over the floor. 

In the end, he had to mine around the area a little to make more area space he could gather lava from, threatening to fall into it a couple of times. 

He swore to cover it after every bucket that got moved but didn't do anything, ending up by slipping on the wet stone, tumbling backwards. 

The warmth that came before the unbearably hot liquid was pleasant and he could bask in it all day if not for the magma that ate at his flesh, burning the nerves away, soon not feeling anything. He tried to reach for the edge but the viscous liquid barely allowed any movement, thus keeping him in place while screaming in pain. 

_Is this... the end?_

_How much did he last?_

_Was it at least a month?_

_He hoped it was or it would be really embarrassing._

Finally, with his last breath he let out a low 'Damn' before closing his eyes. 

But they opened soon after. 

He was back. In his hut, clearly alive and unharmed, not even scarred by the boiling lava, perfectly fine. 

Well, he didn't have his trusty tools and the bucket but that didn't matter. 

"This isn't real" the boy muttered and pinched himself so hard it left a red bruise "This is... clearly not real" he went to pinch himself again but eventually gave up on the idea, clearly with no effect over him. 

Everything he wore was already covering his slightly sweaty body, from the shirt he knew too well, the trousers, scratched boots with always undone laces to the glasses obviously 'lost' in the accident, still present on the top of his head. 

Even now he refused to believe what he was seeing, deciding to go to the river to splash some cold water on his face to at least cool himself down before going back. 

The thing that finally convinced him that he was indeed not dreaming was the figure, equally surprised as him to make eye contact, wearing the sickening lime hoodie and the same mask he called dumb too many times when he was thinking back to the meeting. 

_"Didn't you leave that way?"_ The male on the other side of the river asked, now sitting comfortably on the abundant grass, his grin showing his shark-like teeth while pointing towards the savanna's way. 

Don't get bitten by him, noted the brunette in his imaginary notepad. 

"Didn't I tell you to never show your face to me again?" he retorted while mirroring the stance, laying in the lighter grass, sprinkled with various sizes of poppies and dandelions. 

_"You can't answer to my question with a questi-"_

But he almost immediately got interrupted by George that splashed him with the ice cold water while giving him a look that would definetly kill if it had the ability to. 

"What the hell are you doing here?" he tried again, refusing to let the other off the hook this easily, already tired to see him slither around at night, between the two different forests only to watch him do something. "Don't you have anything better to do than watch me everyday" 

_"Not reall-"_

"That's not the point here-" he spoke, already exasperated by the other's faked oblivion. "-Just... Leave" he sighed and sat up, never looking back, but judging by the same sound of getting up and footsteps getting farther away, he presumed the highly annoying male had left. 

Deciding that if he turned around and the white circle would meet him again, he'd surely go insane, he began walking towards the savanana, following the same path, noticing the outline of the lake once again, the dim light of the lava pool already known to him. 

"There you are" he smiled at the two buckets laying on the stone, one still half full of water, the other empty but radianting a slight warmth. 

The portal was almost finished, if not for the two chunks missing, clearly being the ones that bough him the painful death he didn't wish to repeat again. 

He was a fast learner, and even much of a person who took a liking to experimenting with various materials and things, but the experience was surely unique in a bad way. It didn't seem like anything he'd been doing to entertain himself any time soon. 

Once done with the portal, he grabbed the piece of flint and the malformed iron ingot, hitting them against each other before he got the hang of it, the last spark directed at the barely standing frame. 

Even if it wasn't anything close to what the tome said the finished product looked like, he was proud of himself and the oddity that came from his hands, his own creation. 

And so, he firstly pushed his hand through it, being met by an inimaginabile heat from the other side. 

After pondering for a few good minutes wether he should go through or not, he decided that he didn't spend half a day for nothing. 

With a chuckle at the dizziness that washed over him, he glanced around the infernal landscape, wanting to not think about the warmth for too long. 

Everything seemed to have the aspect of a cave as both the floor and roof were made from the same reddish stone, extremely brittle after he ran his hands over its surface a few times. From various holes in the walls and roof sprouted lava waterfalls of all kinds of dimensions, some more impressive than the last. The portal, something that matched the photo perfectly was looming over a ledge, inviting everyone to peer over it, into the immense glutinous ocean below. 

Curiosity got the best of him, so he leaned over the edge and looked down at the creatures he could only imagine, splashing in the orange mass, growing redder the deeper they sunk into the fluid, the ones laying on the small red island close to the color of a now forming bruise on his arms. Somewhere far away, something cried out, the sound bouncing back and forth between the walls of this enormous cave, up to his location. 

Suddenly, from behind a thick waterfall of lava emerged a phantom-like creature, something close to a jellyfish, only that it was a blunt, opaque white, with nine equally long tentacles growing on its underside, staring at him through its closed eyes. 

It noticed him, indicated by the loud cry ringing in his ears, something the ghast seemed to produce over and over again, while also spewing round balls of some sort, narrowly missing him everytime it tried once again to shoot him down, breaking the fragile netherrack from under his feet, producing enormous holes in the ground, even damaging the portal, the purple swirls inside of it drying out, dripping into the hole under it. It's bottom laid on the edge of the rock, threatening to completely vanish into the bubbling mess under him. In his field of vision came a forest of some sort, entirely covered in a light cyan moss, to the extent of spreading to the tall mushrooms that almost grew to the low ceiling, also developing the disease that consumed it, to the few red vines hanging from a small oasis of vegetation. 

He had no other choice but to take cover below the thick caps, hoping that the ghostly jellyfish would lose interest since he vanished under the wide shadows, looking for anything he could use to make a sword, even one made from sticks and these odd blue logs would make everything a thousand times better for him and his broken portal. 

George made a workbench, securing a wooden sword in his grip with the little materials he had. One of the vines that threatened to crawl over his boots and lock him in place was used to hold the two pieces toghether, the so-called blade and the distorted handle. 

Without worrying too much about knocking down a mushroom, he also gathered a few more planks, tying them into something reminiscent of a shield, putting extra work to make a strap from the same ligneous, unnaturally colored vines that twisted two at a time, making everything he tied with them more secure. 

Once he tested that everything stood in place, especially the shield meant to protect him while he explored a little around the area, he looked around for the thing that ushered him into the eerie shelter of the shroom, but it wasn't here anymore, though the constant cries of it silenced by various walls and caves still made him look around every once in a while. 

Everything was the same bland cherry-toned rock he was afraid to step on, horrified of the looming possibility of dying to lava again, except for a few patches of something brownish, scattered with various bones, from the ones of cats, dogs and various other mammals to even humanoid skulls, which surely looked weirdly fitting for the light smell of putrid meat that lingered around the chunks. 

Something that raised countless red flags was when he neared it and a few whispers, the bark of a dog and a couple quiet mewls rang out from the sand, indicating that it was something souls ended in, or at least, that's what he thought about the whole ordeal. 

Deciding that he didn't want to get lost in this new environment, the boy traced his steps back to the portal, which now bubbled with life again, the swirls spinning and turning in all directions, making him nauseated from staring into it for too long. 

Already quite sure of who was behind all of this, he ditched the wooden objects into one of the holes, feeding the hungry lava something way too insignificant to even be considered a snack, and jumped inside the portal, almost immediately met with a shit eating, sharp-toothed grin. 

As nauseated as he was, he was thankful that he was saved but he'd never admit it to the person that seemed to obviously want to get on his nerves. 

"You again-" he got interrupted by the giggling mess of a stalker in front of him. 

_"You actually went in!"_ he wheezed like a teapot, visually deflating on the crafting table he was sitting, swinging his legs from front to back _"And without a flint and steel on top of that"_

Annoyed by his childishness, George chuked the iron ingot and the creamy material at his head, only the distinct sound of something hard hitting something not that hard but full of something. 

"I did have one-" he sighed and rolled his eyes, lightly pissed "-asshole" this was grumbled under his breath as he gathered the two buckets, left in the same place he put them lastly in. 

The brunette began walking towards his house, obviously followed by the now calm annoyance of a human being that never seemed to go far away from him, even if he asked nicely (which didn't happen actually). 

"Okay-" he stopped dead in his track, turned around looking at the little dots of the smiley "What do you want from me" 

Dream was visibly startled as he opened his mouth, closing it soon after a few times, gaping like a fish which earned him a light snicker but the muddy gaze never left him. _"I-... uhm"_ he cocked his head to the side and smiled _"I'm going to the village..."_ George's face didn't inspire him to continue but he kept going anyways _"-in a few days since it's almost time for the yearly trades! Sooo I was thinking-"_

"No" he firmly stated and began walking again. 

_"Why? "_ he heard a whine behind him, followed by the metallic sounds of his boots hitting the ground, pieces of iron hitting each other when he stepped carelessly and ended up slipping. 

"Because I do not have anything to trade with, neither do I need anything" the familiar sight of his voluminous tree met him, making him feel at least a little safer with the little kid that's been following him for way too long. 

_"You have seven emeralds"_ The blonde declared proudly _"And a couple of diamonds! "_

"I won't even ask how you know that since you're weird enough to have guessed it" he chuckled lightly and set the buckets outside, heading inside the hut, leaving the masked male outside to fend for himself. 

He grabbed a few pieces of meat and two apples, the last of his ending collection, sliced them in halves and cutting the core out from each half, even peeling them since he felt nice both to himself and the other which he didn't know the name of. 

After a few minutes he emerged with the food on a plate carved by him, a sunflower design on the sides, covering the entirety of it. 

He handed him his two halves and a few chunks of meat. 

_"I don't- I already ate"_ Dream shook his hands in the air but was threatened with the knife held in the same hand as the apple George was now munching on, giving up and taking a piece of apple himself. 

"Don't you like... have an actual name?" he broke the silent song of the few crickets that dared interrupt their meal, raising his eyes to meet the edge of the mask, not entirely covering his cheek, thus showing a bit of the freckled skin. "Or do I just call you a complete loser for following me around?" he grinned but still kept his gazed fixed on Dream's face, waiting for an answer. 

_"Like- Real real name or my cool nickname?"_

"Whichever" 

_"Dream"_

"George" 

The two chuckled lightly at their awkward introduction and shared the plate, each taking turns in holding it before it was finished and they went to wash their hands in the river, Dream tripping into the fast waters, earning an histerical laugh from the still dry male.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Could it perhaps be... Two whole chapters in a day?
> 
> Maybe ;}
> 
> Also who is hyped for some puppy Dream just following George around? 
> 
> Thank you for taking the time to read my story <3


	8. Impending Menace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George learns that Dream is not as liked as he had expected him to be.

The last week had been the same for both boys which seemed to spend more time toghether, much to George's distaste. 

Everyday, right before he woke up, a small knock would be heard at his door, indicating that Dream was long awake and waiting by the hut. He always seemed to be very energetic even at odd hours and that made him wonder if the he even slept at all. 

Deciding to not shove his nose into other people's bussiness, he followed his routine religiously. 

The first thing he did every time he emerged groggily from the house was to greet the blonde and stretch, always being laughed at by him. Then, he grabbed the pouch of seeds and fed the chickens a few handfuls while the taller male went to get water, even filling a bowl from outside for wild animals too scared to go near the river. 

Just after that, they ate something, Dream barely touching anything, every time, the same bland routine until midday when they had the rest of the day to themselves. 

The brunette mainly worked on the farms all day, watched by his cautious eyes, always ready to tease him if anything went wrong, mainly resting under the thick shade of the oak, told by his chest slowing down and content smile plastered under the mask. 

But today was a special day since Dream came prepared with all kinds of bags and a few things sticking out of his green messenger bag, acting weirdly chaotic. 

"Are you leaving?" he rose his eyes from the seeds he was planting to glance at the other curiously. 

_"Uh- **We** are leaving... Right now?"_ he'd never seen him sound so unsure so he decided to blink a few times and tilt his head to the side, unaware of how stupid he looked. 

"We?" his voice echoed over the forest sounds as he resumed the work he got interrupted from, humming lightly to himself "I don't remember agreeing to any of this though?" 

He knew that eventually he'd end up traveling with the highly annoying blonde, even if he didn't want to admit it, he was scared of losing his house since he hadn't ventured that far away before. The constant worry to feed the chickens and water the crops every few days didn't help the situation much either. 

_"Georgie come on-"_ Dream pouted _"Don't do this... I don't want to go alone and...and I have no friends! "_ he wiped an imaginary tear and rose his bottom lip even higher, accentuating the childish frown. 

"You're overreacting" 

_"Please! Just this once and I'll be in debt for life. Please ple-"_

"Ugh. Fine! Just shut up already you giant baby" he sat up and cleaned his hands in the water bucket seated next to him, wiping them on his pants after shaking them of the excess water. 

He vanished into the small home and searched the chests for the green ores, hoping that he didn't lose any of them on the way back from the beach. He picked the last two iron ingots from the bottom of a poorly tied chest and made a sword. The last thing he packed was the dried pieces of meat from when Dream came with the body of an entire pig over his shoulders, terrorizing him with the spring-like tail when he slept or was too concentrated on something. 

Even if the other was a very odd individual, he enjoyed his company since he didn't have to spend most of his time alone again, though sometimes he proved to be too much of a jerk even for him to handle. 

A few times he tried to shoot him down while hiding behind a clump of trees, scaring the life out of him. Sometimes he liked to bang on his door and barge in without any warning, and then to just sit in the cramped space, clearly not designed for more than one person at a time. Once, he convinced George to taste a handful of berries, obviously poisonous as he got dizzy and sick the next few minutes while he was dying of laughter. 

"On second thought..." he peeked out of the house to catch a glimpse of the other's smile drop visibly "I don't wanna be your punching bag" he shrugged once and finished tying a few bags which got attached to his backpack. Inside, finding shelter two generous canteens filled to the bottle cap with filtered water, the emeralds and some other things that Dream instructed him to gather. 

_"What-?"_ It was visible that it took him a few moments to process the words _"Wait wait wait- I'm sorry, I won't hit you again."_

"I was kidding but you seem really desperate" he snickered and tied his jacket around his waist, setting the sack, which was surprisingly light, over one of his shoulders. "Eww" he busted out laughing, soon getting joined by the taller boy that looked confused at his right thigh, the one which had the scabbard hugging the iron sword tightly tied to it. 

_"It's easier to have it on your left side"_

"I'm left-handed" 

_"Oh"_

"You're assuming things again" he pointed out, giving yet another shrug. 

Dream looked almost exactly the same as before, the only major change being the addition of a leather bottle holder around his hips, clasping precisely four flasks of a thick liquid that didn't move much when he stepped around, glowing a faint lilac shade if he covered them. His sleeves were also rolled to his elbows, only now taking notice of the second circular scar around his forearm, and the abundance of scratches and burn marks. 

Maybe he was caught staring since a wide palm was waved in front of his eyes a few times, earning a low chuckle from the aforementioned. 

"What is that" the brunette asked curiously and fixed his eyes before him so he didn't stumble on something just like the other did. 

_"Invisibility potions. Two for each if things get... complicated."_

George wanted to protest but eventually fell silent, enjoying the rare moments when his nerves weren't slowly killed by the blonde, now unnaturally silent, somehow surprising him, but not in a positive way. It also seemed like unspoken words were threatening to spill since he fidgeted uncomfortably for a while, before deciding to look at the brunette once again. 

He... didn't look like the bubbly person he just spent his morning with, replaced by someone who looked pushed underground by worries and concerns, even scared if you looked at the way his chest heaved up and down slowly, refusing to inhale anymore if not pushed hard enough by his will. 

_"Listen, George"_ he inhaled sharply and began playing with the part that held his potion holder in place, almost opening the thing up a few times _"If anything happens to you or anyone wrongs you, you call for me and I'll be there... The town isn't exactly the safest place to be"_

"I can take care of myself Dream" his voice sounded calm, trying to lure the taller male into calming down too "I promise" he held up his arm, pinky outstretched, waiting for his hand to interlock their fingers, a childish vow he was a fan of. 

Dream smiled weakly and rose his gloved hand to meet the warmer one that belonged to a certain someone he grew too accustomed to, almost scared of the same thing happening. 

After that, a comfortable silence fell between the two, interrupted by one of the canteens passed between them, now missing a quarter of its insides when they reached an area familiar to his, only that this one met at the edges with a thick taiga, an apologetic smile from the blonde following suit after he let the hoodie's sleeves down. 

If the sound of a wild horse neighing somewhere behind them wouldn't have been loud enough to startle both of them, they would have reached the town at least an hour sooner, even more if they hurried through the snowy biome. 

"A horse!" they shouted at the same time, turning to face each other in the same moment, hammering their heads toghether while laughing, the brunette ending up on the ground from the collision. 

He was helped to his feet by the other that let out a wheezy laugh, running out of breath shortly after. 

_"Get it Georgieee"_ Dream yelled and began sprinting after the horse, now cornered between a few trees by George who neared it cautiously, but he couldn't care less. 

Since the stallion had its back to him, he jumped on its sturdy spine and gripped the dense white mane, holding onto it for dear life. It struggled to throw him over his head but to no avail. He was secured on the animal, now neighing and nickering furiously, resuming to its last possibility to escape the trained hands in riding, by slamming its back to the ground, sandwiching him between them. 

Dream's lungs completely abandoned breathing, hands still secure around the mane as the horse stood on its two back legs, already distributing its weight to its lower back to make the impact more damaging. 

"Hay!" George came almost out of thin air and waved his hands in the air to make the animal lean back, which worked since the blonde was thrown to the ground before it sped into the distance, as far away as it's muscular legs could carry it. 

In this moment, the brunette wanted to both murder Dream completely and entirely but to also cradle his injured side while making sure nothing hurt him anymore. Everything swirled inside his head until the faint wheeze he knew too well made its presence it the dead valley. He let out a deep sigh he didn't know he was holding and knelt next to him, placing his hand on the side of his face, close to his ear. 

Then, he pinched it as hard as he could, even though he was shaking a little himself. 

"You are so dumb... Like dummy dumb" he rubbed the bridge of his nose and stared at him pitifully, how he was sprawled on the grass, blood flowing quietly from his nose, onto his cheek, over the chin, getting soaked by the smooth material of the hood at the end of the crimson river. "I can't believe you almost died to a horse" a sharp inhale followed "And I would have been left here- absolutely in the middle of nowhere! I don't even know the way back idiot. " finally, he sat up and refused to look down, picking his items which fell out when he tried to catch up to the other. 

_"Okay, okay mom. I won't do it again. No promises though"_ , he grinned and sat up, but was met only by silence from George, something that was always a sign that he messed up big time. 

Without muttering any more words, he picked his own items from the ground and put his bag around his shoulders, looking at the grass laid down, from where the stallion had stepped on. 

Since Dream already showed him which direction to go to reach the village, the brunette was already by the transition part between the two different ecosystems, absolutely refusing to say anything, even producing a simple sound was off the list of things he'd be doing soon, giving the other the silent treatment for the rest of the journey. 

When the lights of a few nearby tall buildings became more evident as the sun began to set, the blonde finally gave up and turned to face the shorter male, already fed up with the dreadful silence that encased them both for at least a couple of hours. 

His hand gripped at George's shoulders and and he wore a dissatisfied expression. 

_"Okay! Fine! I'm sorry... I'm sorry- Just talk to me goddammit!"_ he bit his lip out of frustration, one of his hands now tugging at his hair. 

George still refused to speak. 

_"Say something already... Ugh- I don't like being ignored, you know that"_ without realizing, his teeth had clenched and he looked entirely pissed off, the knuckles of his hands going white from clamping too hard both on the material of the other's jacket and his own hair. 

For a few moments, the thick void of words hanged above them, weighting the atmosphere down. 

"You're hurting me" the blunt words bough a crooked grin to Dream's lower half of the face. 

Something that clearly surprised the sulking male was when the blonde hugged him tightly, the feeling of his clearly longer arms wrapping completely around him giving him a headache. His chin was digging a little burrow in his shoulder but neither he could say that he hated the sensation, nor that he liked it. The mass of dirty yellow clumps Dream proudly called 'hair I'll tie' was tickling his cheek and corner of mouth. 

Maybe he never got to be this close to him, only now realizing that he had a sweet grassy smell to him, from rolling in it all day while he worked on the farm or the future house. 

Once they parted, the masked male seemed to have a satisfied smile on his face, tapping his messenger bag a few times. 

_"Stay close to me okay?"_

"Right behind you" 

_"I'm here and my hearing is one of the best"_ he bragged and began walking towards the main street, bustling with plain clothered people, obviously afraid of the menacing figure that stepped between the stands and shops. _"Don't hesitate to call out for me"_

George couldn't help but wonder why everyone was dressed so monochromatic but decided that the town's traditions were none of his business, following after the other, an obvious path forming wherever he went. 

The townsfolk chatted, whispered and hurried into the comfort of their houses, at least a lock away from their possible death. All kinds fo voices rung all at once, a particular one sticking to him for a few moments longer than the others. 

_'Tell the others Dream is here'_

The words were meant for a small group of children that began walking from shop to shop, announcing sheepishly the seemingly devastating news for the generously populated town, with buildings the brunette couldn't even dream of planning out in a few years. 

A light tap on his arm and a 'I'll be back soon, look around ' signaled that the other found something he was interested in so he had some spare moments to look around without searching the lime hoodie every few seconds. 

A single shop caugh his attention, a simple bookstore filled to the point of denial with books, the singular clerk at the counter and an older woman, close to having grandchildren, looking into the section of folk tales. 

Intrigued by the wide range of knowledge he could get from here he peeked at the label 'Brewing' and began searching for a book he didn't even know if it existed. Eventually, the familiar, leathery cover was found and he pulled it out, glancing at the first page. The same pattern applying here too. The spine of the book and the first few pages in a language he didn't understand one bit, then, the rest in an immaculate English, proving to be the most useful books ever. 

It got secured under his arm as he looked around for something, when he heard the bell ringing, him and the male at the counter the only people left. 

A raspy voice from a rocking chair spoke, interested by someone as young as he was inside of this old-fashioned workshop "Looking for anything in particular ?" 

George pointed at the cover of the book and it's golden letters "I was wondering if you know what this is..." he tilted his head to the side, a little gesture he got used to doing "The language I mean" he added shortly after. 

"Galactic alphabet" the voice responded tiredly "There is a book about it but nobody wants it, really- You can get the three books for a couple of emeralds so look for another one" 

"Thank you" he bowed lightly out of respect and began looking through the section of adventure books, being met by one with all kinds of structures, some more impressive than the one from the last page. And he knew he couldn't leave without it in his bag. 

The three books were placed on the counter while he got the pair of greenish stones, putting them in the little bowl next to a few other papers, earning a 'Enjoy your books' and endless hours of reading for himself. 

Even if he tried hard enough, the sack would only end up ripped if the tried to put the books in, so he held them to his chest, finally walking out of the little building. 

He was met with the sweet scent of pumpkin pie and he couldn't help himself but walk around the labyrinth, nearing the little bakery with open windows, letting the smell fill the cold air of the night. 

Once everyone received either their desired bread of a piece of pie, it was his turn and he was immediately met by a wrinkled female hand gripping at his cheek, visibly cooing at him. 

"What is such a handsome young lad like you doing here all alone?" she had a pleasant voice and even her flour-covered hands smelled nice. 

"Ah-" he chuckled lightly "I'm actually here with someone" he eyed the biggest piece of pie, so he could split it with Dream on the way back. 

"Oh?" he woman smiled and followed his gaze to the piece of pie "Who is the lucky lady?"she grinned and packed it into a piece of brownish paper that immediately soaked the bits of oil from the crust "An emerald please". 

Once the green stone was on the corner, warm pie in his hand, George turned around and looked for his friend, easily seeing him since he was a head taller than everyone, plus his neon colored hoodie was like a giant flag indicating his positon. "It's a he" he laughed and pointed to the blonde talking to a toolsmith, shown by the apron and two anvils on each side of his shop. 

The woman seemed to freeze and silently question her actions, oblivious to the leaving male. 

"Good day" he waved weakly and made his way to Dream's side, elbowing him while calling out since he didn't want to scare him. 

Once the taller blonde placed a generous amount of the green stones that seemed even more valuable than netherite on the market, the shopkeeper pulled out a turquoise blade, covered in a faint purple shimmer, somehow similar to the nether portal. 

When he finally paid attention to him, he gave a small smile and looked at the pie. 

_"Where did you buy that from?"_

" There was a really nice lady selling baked goodies so I got us something- Ah.. I didn't ask if you like it-" his smile withered and he looked at the orangeish pastry. 

_"No, no"_ Dream smiled sweetly and put the blade in his sheath, so he wouldn't cut himself, then took the books out of the brunette's hands, two of them fitting into the bag but the third just stood in his hands while they walked somewhere more quiet and less busy. 

_"It's actually my favorite, that's why I was so surprised"_ he confessed and immediately got offered the obviously bigger part of it, cracking a toothy smile. 

"I'm not that hungry since I drank a lot of water" he spoke and laid on the plump vegetation, enjoying the moonlight, way gorgeous than the simple sun rays he saw everyday. 

They sat in complete silence and ate the sweet thing, talking about whether they should head back or spend another day in the town. 

Eventually George fell sleep while cuddling his backpack, leaving Dream to watch over him the rest of the night. 

He was scared of the recurring nightmare so he could take a short nap tomorrow if he felt too tired to continue, hoping the now sleeping male would understand. At least it was clear that he didn't like sleeping at night one bit, really grateful that when they were at the hut he was left in complete freedom unless a lot of water buckets were needed, even then he wasn't woken up, the brunette preferring to carry them alone than bother him. 

Something he also really appreciated at George was that he didn't question things. 

If he ever said that a really small thing wasn't to his liking, he'd stop and never ask a question until the person was ready to talk about it themselves. 

This was clearly a quality his other friends missed. 

_Friends..._

_Were they... friends ?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did anyone notice the indirect kiss (since they drank one after another from the canteen) or nah? :) 
> 
> Also- a question for everyone reading until here... Am I moving too fast? 
> 
> I want to thank everyone for the support- It's honestly amazing to see this story liked by so many people. <3
> 
> Love y'all ! :D


	9. Unforeseen Consequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream is threatened for the first time in a few years and will do anything to save his newly found friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smh nobody noticed that in one of the chapters Dream sat on a crafting table and it really shows :')
> 
> Joking, joking, I love y'all innocent babies <3
> 
> Dream is kinda scary not gonna lie :')

Dream didn't sleep a moment, wary of the possibility of someone coming to steal their belongings even if he'll hunt them down and make their life miserable, but surprisingly he didn't have to deal with anyone as it was a quiet night. 

The moon was now a thin, curved line, barely reflecting any light back to them. Even the crickets that seemed so lively when they first sat in this place seemed to go to sleep, along with the whole city, indicated by the scattered street lamps, the only sources of light still burning. The wind he deemed calm until now began gusting, sometimes blowing the jacket off George since he didn't zip it as Dream told him to, at least several times, but the blonde was always there to move the fabric back, then change his position, trying to shield the sleeping male as much as he could from the wind. 

He sighed and stared at his closed lashes, somehow reminding him of a woman's. 

The brunette had a feminine figure, cheeks that always looked rosy and full of life, lips any girl from this city would be jealous of and the softest locks of hair he had ever touched. Sadly, he wasn't that careful with his words, sometimes even telling Dream he hated him, in a somehow loving way, always making him either 'the biggest idiot on earth' or 'the biggest dummy he had ever seen'. 

_"I... Don't think I can forgive myself."_ The blonde smiled sadly and ran his hands through the maroon strands, feeling the guilt inside of his heart grow bigger and bigger _"I'm..."_ he whispered but cut himself short _"Thank you Georgie. Thank... you"_ his voice had died out, only then falling silent for the few hours he had to wait before the sun began to come out, only then able to meet a certain someone from the town. 

When his eyes closed, the only thing that showed up was mental image of George's glasses on the block of netherite inside his trophy room, asking for something precious enough to be put on it, not any kind of usual earrings or rings. What put him off was that they had a splatter of blood on one of the lenses, already knowing what went down to get them. 

He bit his lips hard enough to feel the metallic taste in his mouth, something he grew distant to. 

The wait felt like years for him since the only thing he could really stare at were the few buildings with chipped corners and scratched windows near him, sleeping far away from his grasp, even if he tried to reach it... but he didn't try, not even moved his imaginary hand near it. He let the possibility of resting slip away from him, closing his eyes in the end, blocking everything he could see, especially George's peaceful figure. 

Eventually, the sun rose and the city woke up, the faint scent of a bakery opening its doors creeping up to him. Then, he sat up and looked at the people staring curiously at him, tapping the cover of his newly bough diamond sword, a sly grin on his face. 

_"If anyone comes near him- I will absolutely, without any excuse, murder your entire family and friends, and when I say murder... I suppose all of you know what it means"_ his head tilted to the side, giving one last look towards the tree George slept under. 

Something that he should specify would be the fact that he ditched his hoodie to make it a pillow for the brunette, the only thing that he had covering his chest being a T-shirt the exact same vibrant lime color, a white smiley face on its front, also drawn by him when he bought the shirt, a long time ago. 

As per usual, everyone moved out of his way, no matter how much they needed to get somewhere. The children played far away from him and weren't allowed to run after each other on the streets when he was around. Even **he** wasn't that mentally unstable. He wouldn't kill a child. That's just... _messed up_.

The house he was looking for, an old bookstore and a potion shop that somehow merged to become a house, sat on top of a hill, a great distance between it and the village, though, a beautifully paved path united it to the civilization.

Dream felt that it had changed, but he still neared it, whistling to himself and a pure white cat with a beautiful red collar that decided to follow him around while mewling and making all kinds of sounds.

He surely was better at talking to animals rather than talking to other humans since they seemed to understand him a little bit more, judge him a little bit less and accept pets without grimacing or taking it as an insult. 

_"C'mere"_ he crouched next to it and reached his hand for its ears, reading the name on the collar. 

It was a her and her name was 'Collie'. He remembered fondly the little, golden tag since she had been here since he used to share a house with his older friends, if he could even call them that. A quiet purr emitted from her neck, obviously pleased with the care and attention she was receiving.

Reminded by the stone path that he actually had to be somewhere, he sat upright again, earning a few dissatisfied meows from the feline, but he continued nonetheless. 

As he neared the house he was also very familiar with, he could notice that everything looked healthy, especially the abundant crops right behind the house, scattered in chunks with different seeds of beetroot, carrots and potatoes. He was always impressed by how good they were cared for since he couldn't maintain a farm even if his life depended on it, which seemed rather stupid to him, going to the extent of begging to be taught anything that could help him with this 'unique' journey. 

The door that hasn't changed since he helped build the house, too many years ago to even remember, was now proudly stopping at the end of the path, inviting Dream to knock on it, only to be almost met with a joyful expression from the male inside. 

_"What a creep-"_ he chuckled _"You watched me walk up here through the window, didn't you Zak?"_ he teased and stretched his arms lightly, waiting for a hug. 

"You wish" the much shorter male giggled, the pleased expression he wore every time they met unchanged. He moved to give Dream a light squeeze, before pulling back and staring at him just for a few more moments than usually. 

_"What"_ the blonde said in a monotone voice, almost cracking a laugh _"Oh no-"_ finally, he let a wide grin take over his face, cheeks rose just a little higher than usual. 

"Where is your hoodie? It's really cold outside- And this crap-" he felt the material of his shirt slightly tugged at "-It isn't even thick enough to warm you up! Did you lose it? Again?!" Zak began speaking really fast, something Dream was vaguely good at understanding, beyond his impressive learning capacity. 

If one thing needed to be said about the figure before him, it would clearly be that he can't control himself over insignificant things, completely and utterly turning into a mother. The fact that he held a wooden spoon in one of his hands didn't help his situation the slightest. 

"I had to give it up" he chuckled, earning a spoon right where the top of his head was, probably going to bruise in a few hours. _"Wow- Uhm... Rude?"_

He pretended to be hurt but couldn't hold the act for too long since an ungodly wheeze went through his lips, making the other laugh too, not at the situation but at the horrible sound he had just witnessed being produced. They calmed down and just smiled at each other for a brief moment. 

_"I really need some carrots and potatoes right now"_ he just blurted out, catching the brunette off-guard. He wanted to surprise George when he woke up since he'd always catch him whining about how plain bread was or how he didn't like planting the barely visible wheat seeds. 

"Did you bring what I asked for?" he was met with a vigorous nod, followed by the sound of him unbuckling the belt closing the messenger bag, only then the sound of a few glass things hitting each other before the desired objects appeared before him- The heart of the sea, most precisely, three of them, quite heavy by how the blonde's hands began to shake lightly by holding them too much and too high. 

Zak took them one by one and set them on a nearby table, inside a basked covered by a white cloth, looking at their somehow metallic shine, amazed. 

"How much time did all of these take you ?" 

_"Two of them took me around a few weeks, but the third took me only a few hours of hard convincing"_ the sharp-toothed grin he always had on stretched a little wider. 

"Oh?" the male rose an eyebrow, clearly interested by the story "What kind of idiot was willing to trade for these?" 

Dream rubbed the back of his head and covered his forehead, scared of getting hit another time by the spoon he considered too hard to be wood. _"He didn't- He just gave it to me... But I did maybe- Just maybe, had to promise something for it though..."_ as expected, another whack with the spoon came, only now that it was directed at his half-covered cheek, leaving a bright red mark. 

"I swear to everything that is holy and kind that you'll get beaten to death one day by this spoon" the other just shook his head lightly but instructed the blonde behind the house for two generous bags filled with almost twenty two pounds of each vegetable, tied neatly with a braided string, something he liked when he came to buy things from him, or at least trade. 

After they talked a little bit more about when the next trading fair would be, things that Zak could use around his house and Dream's rewards for getting said things, they bid goodbyes and the blonde carried the two sacks over his shoulder, technique he had also tested with humans. They were in fact much lighter when their weight was distributed evenly over a few of the strongest bones in his body. 

Once he took notice of the tree George still slept peacefully under, he set the two bags down, leaning on the tree so there wouldn't be any chance of their contents spilling, having to pick them up by hand after. His eyes stared a little too long at the brunette, causing him to smile unintentionally, while also thinking of what to get for both of them to eat. 

From what he had noticed, the only thing the other male seemed to not like that much was fish, something he personally simply adored, but he wouldn't take the risk of having a hungry George until they decide what to get for lunch, since he'd mainly be whining and bothering him when he tried to do anything at all- something that happened only once before, when he fed the berries to him and they made him way more sick than he remembered them being. 

Deciding to buy some meat pastries from the bakery the brunette seemed so excited about, he shuffled inside his bag, looking for the pouch he held all the emeralds in, clearly masked by a lot of other items- a bottle of tears from a ghast, the few pieces of pure lapis lazuli he managed to purify while randomly experimenting on, two bags, completely filled with shards of prismarine and prismarine crystals he almost drowned a few times for and finally the last three items that completed his collection being the music discs he absolutely adored to play with in his house, his favorite being the one that had 'Far' written on the middle part, being the only one he had also left at home. The participants today were two 'Cat's and a singular 'Mellohi' which even he didn't know where he got from. 

Thinking back to what he could have done with it, a single thought came to him, when he told George to hold it for a few moments, clearly both of the forgetting about it, thus the bag ending somewhere inside the backpack that laid lifelessly between the sleeping male's hands, tightly grasped to his chest. 

He sighed and crouched next to him, his hand placed on his shoulder, shaking him lightly. The idea of also trying to pry it out of his hands didn't seem that bad either but he didn't want to give him a heart attack or worse, get hit by him, since oddly enough, he hit way harder when scared. 

"Hmm?" the brunette rose up but got pushed back to the ground by Dream 

_"I need to get something from the bag so I can buy something to eat and you can go back to sleep"_

"Did you wake me up just to say that?" he said sleepily, already going back to hugging the sack once he got it back. 

_"Didn't wanna scare you"_ the blonde admitted and got to his feet, looking around at the few people that peered at his interaction with the male, clearly amazed but horrified at the same time. They seemed oddly close for a presumed cold-hearted murderer and a new face around the city. 

Maybe this was their time to finally make Dream dissappear for at least another few trade fairs, leaving the place alone, taking the cloud of worry everyone had around when he made his presence felt, away with his departure. 

Maybe a certain boy from the village knew exactly how to do that, with the necessary tools and items, a perfect building for the whole operation to take place and one of the sharpest swords he bough from the town's proud toolsmith to operate with. 

All he had to get now was a few moments when Dream wasn't near George, or he had him in his field of view. 

Eavesdropping on their conversation seemed even better since he knew the bakery would probably have an already long line, earning him at least ten more minutes of time. The brunette didn't seem that light as he had expected him to be, his arms even showing slight traces of muscle. He must've been working with them a lot since no other part of his body seemed as exercised as them. 

Just when Dream vanished between the thick crowd of people, he neared the sleeping male, turning towards the blonde's direction every few minutes, finally seeing him disappear entirely under the light fog that settled over the town. 

He reached for his pockets and pulled out a primitive syringe, something he experimented on a few willing friends of his to test if it actually worked. He named the drug inside 'K' as it was the initial of his first patient. It was meant to be taken in small doses since a bigger one, close to filling the syringe was most likely lethal. 

What he carried in his hand now was a half-full recipient, enough to completely shut down someone even the size of Dream in less than five minutes. 

Everything was easier since George slept and he could actually strangle him just a little bit easier and faster. 

With a swift movement he straddled the male and pressed his fore arms to the two carotid arteries on either side of his neck, feeling the slight struggle go completely limp. After that, came the injection with the so-called medicine. 

He counted the seconds and when he neared the thirty mark he felt struggle once again but he had already tied his hand behind his back, hand moving to cover his mouth, stopping any kind of unwanted sounds to come out and alerting his friend. His palm was wetted by George's tongue in a poor attempt to make him move it so calling out for Dream wouldn't actually be this much of a struggle. The male's counter was still going, now reaching the one minute and forty seconds mark. 

The brunette's movements had already began going down, the slight tension he felt in his arms finally stopping. 

The last thing left to do now was carry him to the abandoned barn, right behind a few modern-looking houses, tall enough to produce a thick wall you could barely look by, perfectly guarding the vulgar trade he was going to offer for his town's peace, even if it would bring him the death penalty, as judged by none other than the blonde with the disturbing mask everyone knew well enough. 

With a few more ropes he managed to tie George to an old chair entirely, maybe a little too tight since red marks began to bite away at the unconscious brunette's wrists and ankles, but this didn't interest him. 

Luckily, a few kids played around and he called them over, instructing them to look no one else but Dream and tell him to be here as fast as he could, if, of course, he wished the best for his traveling companion. 

The children were more than happy to run around on a mission, one of the little girls venturing out enough to bump right into the one she was looking for. 

"Mister Dream!" she chirped happily and was met by the huge figure crouching next to her, petting her head caringly. 

_"Hello princess"_ his sweet tone replied, a smile plastered right under his mask. 

"S-Someone requested your presence at the old barn... " she spoke softly and brushed a strand of hair away from her eyes "He says that you two have to talk about... uhm- something" her eyelashes batted innocently. She couldn't know then real reason as of why his presence was so wanted as her innocence would be stained from such a young age. 

Dream was the second in line but immediately ditched any kind of food he could get, sprinting towards the place he knew too well, behind the same impassible wall of buildings and hidden pathways. Everything seemed humid and somehow he was thankful that he had a shirt on instead of his much thicker hoodie. 

Eventually, he was met by the gigantic red doors of the abandoned building. 

Without thinking any further, he opened the door and felt his heart sink at the view, even though he looked perfectly calm on the outside. 

_"Tommy? Ugh..."_ he faked a displeased sigh after this, looking at either the other blonde before him, the diamond sword touching George's neck and the brunette's tranquil expression, seemingly unfazed by the whole incident. 

He was so glad that a mask was covering half of his face since his slightly glossy eyes were hidden away in the darkest of shades, away from anyone's capability to identify him. 

"I see you're excited to see me and your friend right here" Tommy, as Dream had called him, pressed the sword a little more, producing a slight cut right under his chin. 

_"Okay- Fine... What do you want from me, huh?"_ he put one hand over his messenger bag, ready to get anything he mentioned out of it, if he had it on himself firstly. _"Emeralds? Discs? Lapis? Those carrots and potatoes from the tree?"_ he had offered all the things he could get, hoping that the request would be in the limits. 

"Nothing." 

_"Nothing?"_ he repeated, surprised. 

"I want you to never come in this town again... Forget about our existence and never set foot here again..." the kidnapper trailed off, wanting to continue the offer while also setting some new rules for the blonde to follow. "The only exception I'll tolerate would be solely for trading with Zak, but no one else" the hand that was free gripped at George's hair, pulling his head backwards, exposing the now pale skin around his neck. "Understood?" 

_"I... do"_ he said reluctantly. 

"You do what?" the blade was shoved even lower, close to the point of choking him. 

_"I understand! Okay- Dammit... I understand just... Let him go"_ he whispered the last part, proud of his will to not let his voice crack in the middle of the sentence. 

Once Tommy left by going through the door behind him, Dream was left with George's pale and limp body, feeling it slightly tremble when he placed his hands around his wrists to cut the rope, grimacing at the wounds they had made, promising himself to take care of them later. After he looked for any kind of sign that could tell him where the drug was taken from, he rose one of his sleeves and noticed the red dot and a slightly redder area around it. 

He placed his head on the brunette's knees and let out a sigh so heavy with pain that if you were in the exact same room with him, the sheer pressure would crush your lungs down, making you unable to breathe, slowly dying out in a shameful way. 

Once he caught his breath and wiped his eyes underneath the mask, he slithered a hand under his legs, the other one going below his torso so he could lift him up, in the easiest way for both of them. It was just in his imagination but George did feel lighter since he wasn't struggling or saying anything. 

When he knew the other wouldn't fall from his arms, he walked out the barn to their sprawled belongings, unexpectedly still there, even if some of them broke or the bottles got shattered, dirtying the grass with what they contained. 

He set the male down and picked every little item that still could be salvaged, carefully sorting them in the backpack now hung over his shoulder, carrying a few potatoes and carrots, suddenly unable to carry the bigger sacks he traded for, deciding to abandon them next to the tree. 

Then again, he picked him up and vanished into the nearby forest, walking for as much as his legs could carry him, before he had to make shelter, hoping the shorter male would wake up soon. 

The silence became unbearable and he felt himself tearing up again. He shouldn't cry... He couldn't cry. 

_"It's all my fault"_ a quiet whisper escaped his lips, hand almost falling down in the fire he had made to fend the wild animals off. _"If... If only I didn't insist so much... Poor you"_ he rose one of his hands and caressed the raw flesh near the articulation _"I should have listened to you- I- How can you always be right? I hate it sometimes... "_ he hiccuped and fell silent, resting his head onto George's cold shoulder that this time didn't push him away. 

And a few seconds had passed. 

Then a few more minutes. 

And then an entire hour of just staring into the crackling mess he'd made, something he wasn't that proud of calling a fire but would have to do it since it was their only source of light during the night. 

_"Please wake up... I'm begging you to wake up"_ Dream's hoarse voice was barely audible over the crackling and roaring of the fire that was still alive, only now proving to be of use since the wood had burned and only hot coals remained. 

"I am awake... Dream" a quiet voice called out to him, feeling another head rest on top of his, only now letting out a quiet, choked sob.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I fixed the spelling mistakes and I'm so sorry you had to read that primitive thing, it was really disgusting I apologize. 
> 
> Ngl, this chapter made me tear up a little when I proof-read it :') 
> 
> Thank you all for reading!! <3


	10. Refusing To Part

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joking does not always end up with laughs from both parties.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is short and ewie but please take it since I've been struggling with it o.0
> 
> Also I almost gave myself a heart attack since I didn't save it as a draft and my phone died a minute after I finished it xddd but it's all good now bros don't worry :')
> 
> (yes if you were wondering I cried like a baby for a few minutes)

"Dream?" the vibrations tickled at the blonde's senses, alerting him of the necessity of responding. 

_"Yes, Georgie?"_ a faint smile painted his lips, even if he was still shaking lightly due to the immense fear he had just felt. 

It felt oddly good to be able to actually feel something at all, if not for the times when he had to be like a stone wall, impassible and quiet, dirtying his capability to be human, or as human as he could be. The warmth that now radiated off the brunette's body felt normal too. He wasn't limp anymore and the slight shifting of his arms around only calmed Dream down more, now sure that he was alive. 

"I just wanted to make sure..." he trailed off and closed his eyes, feeling a warm hand on his back and the other tilting his head to look at him. 

_"Make sure? Of what..?"_

"That I'm still alive and... That I'm here with you" finally, he saw the muddy orbs he was familiar with open again, seemingly looking through the mask, giving him a slight feeling of being naked. 

Dream wanted to give a quiet laugh but decided to keep silent, holding dear to his heart the moment when he wasn't the one being scared of losing the other. It was such a bitter-sweet idea he could not really swallow in its integrity. He'd always been told that he thinks too much about all kind of things and now he felt that he couldn't agree more with the people he'd met. 

Was George going to leave him somewhen? Find someone who is better than him? There were clearly more options in his direction since not a lot of people were as 'mentally deranged' as him, with a longer victim list than the population of all the towns put together. 

Deciding to change the subject to something less likely to make him tear up again, he sat up and stretched, now him being the one laughed at for looking like a cat. 

_"Can you stand up?"_ he knelt near their bags and began to look for something to eat in them, suddenly reminded of the packets of meat the male laying down had packed for their journey, clearly stating that he would absolutely not give him any of the pieces, even if he was starving to death, in the same loving way. 

"If I say no, will you carry me?" 

_"Yeah... I guess"_

"I can't" he erupted into a fit of giggles, interrupted by a few coughs, almost choking on his own saliva, making the blonde turn to look at him, eyes filled with worry even if they weren't visible. 

_"Woah calm down- Don't speak too much"_ he added, noticing that one of the other's hands moved to cover his mouth, muffling another set of coughs, already dizzy by how he leaned back into the tree, looking for something that could support his weight. 

This went on for the several minutes he took to warm up the meat by sticking a thin branch to it and holding it over the fire, turning it around when he though that it was hot enough, repeating the process at least a few times. 

Deciding that he had enough of hearing George's lungs die beside him, he sat in front of him and grabbed both his arms, grinning widely. 

_"Okay! Okay- just don't die here... Just put your hands down and don't choke"_ This earned a small shake from his head, also threatening to crack a toothy smile _"Please- Oh my god- George! Why are you so stubborn?"_ He finally gave up sat up right again, hearing the other laugh copiously at him, followed by another coughing fit and an eye roll from him. 

Once the spirits calmed down, a quiet shuffle was heard behind him when knelt the cut the bits of warm meat, too interested to not cut off his fingers to be able to turn around. A couple of hands rested on his shoulders, followed by the tone he could now admit that he liked a little bit too much for his own good: 

"Will you tell me what happened or will I live in a lie all of my life?" he massaged lightly the tensed muscles, feeling them relax just a little bit more every time his hand brushed the collar bone. 

Dream bit his bottom lip lightly, wanting to add an 'You already do' but decided to not say anything since it would make the brunette more curious, something he clearly didn't want to happen right now.

The blonde turned to look at George, the vibrant smile he wore completely turned upside-down. 

_"They saw me talk to you and..."_ he muttered and resumed cutting at the last piece of meat, clutching the handle of the knife just a little bit harder _"But.. Haven't you noticed something though?"_

"About?" 

_"Me?"_

"You're weird? " 

_"Anything else?"_

"The town seems to hate you?" Once done with preparing the meal, he moved a little bit to the side to allow the brunette to join him, starting to eat in complete silence. Only the quiet sound of chewing interrupted the thick silence, giving the atmosphere a slight, humanish texture. 

_"And you're not bothered by that?"_

"Not really" George spoke with his mouth full, giving a shrug at the end "Everyone has preferences so... I can't really blame them for having better ones than me" he teased, earning a wheezy laugh from the other, eventually growing to stare one at another, smiling stupidly while sometimes glancing back at the log the food was served on, only to make sure they didn't end up with splinters. 

Then, silence fell over the two. It was comfortable and neither of the two felt the need to maintain conversation, basking in each other's presence while sometimes touching elbows accidentally, ending with giggles from both. If you looked at them from afar, you'd maybe think that the blonde, masked figure was just too self-conscious to show his face and the giggly brunette, the only source of entertainment for his friend, sitting next to an almost dead fire, eating some kind of dried meat, poorly reheated were friends since the beginning of time. 

It felt domestic. 

_"You're such an idiot"_ He laughed once again, hiding a grin behind his turned face. 

"What did I do this time?" he asked, scandalized by the sudden insult. 

_"Let yourself be kidnapped?"_ It was purely a joke but it seemed to bother the other deeper than he had thought. 

George blinked a few times, this time baffled by the words, putting the piece of meat back. He wiped his hand on the grass and suddenly felt full. 

"Well... Maybe if someone didn't leave me alone when he knew that the whole city had something against him-" he spat venomously "Then we wouldn't have been here in the first place." 

_"So- You're saying that it's my fault?"_ The piece of food between his fingers was placed back on the so-called table, his fingers also wiping on the grass. Maybe furious was too weak of a word to compare to what he felt right now. 

"I'm just saying that we should've stayed home, Dream" he winced at the sudden raised tone, directed to him only. 

_"I wanted to come here because you wouldn't stop WHINING everytime you worked on the farm- 'The seeds are too small' and 'Ugh they're so hard to plant'!"_ he mimicked the brunettes voice, clearly annoyed by the conversation. 

"Aha- I see where this is going" He still spoke abnormally calm for the whole situation unfolding before his eyes. "Now- You're blaming none other than me! And for what? Because you thought coming here to get potatoes would be better?" he shook his head, feeling his eyes get glossy from the pressure on his already somewhat weak heart from the drug. 

_"I thought that I'd do something to help you once in my life! Sometimes you forget that I've been here for way longer than you've been... At least don't be so sour about it!"_

"Excuse me? Did we get any help from this damned town? All we got... No. All I GOT was a shot of some kind of drug, then got kidnapped and used as a trading item... I think you underestimated this shitty village you dragged me in" 

_"Don't talk like that about it"_

"What?" he mocked "Does it bother you that much? Maybe we should've stood away from it then-" 

_"SHUT UP"_ the blonde roared gripping his knees, noticing the knuckles instantly going a few shades brighter. _"You know nothing about it and most certainly... **Nothing about me** " _

A short pause followed, giving them both a few moments to regain their breath, maybe ready to continue the argument, started over an insignificant joke. 

_But doesn't it all start that way?_

Suddenly, the sound of George's voice broke the incommodious silence that settled between them, along with the sound of him standing up. 

"I'm leaving" 

_"Where the hell are you going?"_

"Back home" 

_"Let me-"_ he stood up but was met by a disappointed expression, gazing somewhere away now. 

"No Dream... I'm going alone" 

George bit his lip and wiped his eyes, looking any direction other than his friend's, too scared to see what kind of expression he wore after the news were presented to him. 

His backpack was picked up without adding anything to the conversation, placing on the ground three items that belonged to Dream but ended up in his bag. One of the two canteens, still both filled with water to their halves, and a couple of the packed meat pieces, cooked by him with the help of the blonde. It would be selfish if he took all four of the last food resources, since the animal wasn't hunted by him and they could barely be called edible. 

_"W-Wait- Don't leave..."_ the quiet tone said behind him, yet he ignored it and pushed through the foliage, leaving the small area they had to themselves, basking in the warmth and yellowish light of the fire for something he could find more lonely, now unbothered by the 'annoying' voice of a certain taller male. 

A sigh filled with loathing and grief flew by his lips, making him let out a small chuckle at the situation, but it wasn't a happy one. It was more like one of the 'how are you going to fix this' ones, or even the classic 'he hates you now'. He couldn't really choose between them as it wasn't that important at this very moment. 

The landscaping looked familiar to him, able to distinguish certain things Dream had shown him when they came on the same path. 

A few rocks sticking out of the grass, sprinkled with something black, closer to a dark gray in color which was explained as an 'odd anomaly', purely hyperbolic since it was just a simple stone with one of the blandest materials in it. 

Just a few more minutes of walking and you'd get to a very dense forest, where sometimes the trees were replaced by immense mushrooms, poisonous enough to kill you from one bite of their ligneous stems. It was also worth noticing that vicious monsters liked the lower temperature and shade the trees provided, even hiding in the logs emptied by time, waiting for someone to go by them. 

The next hour was spent walking through one of the longest plains he had ever met, the duration greatly impacted by the lack of visually pleasant things to look at, thus making everything seem more annoying than anything else to him. 

Now, that he didn't think about the vegetation and mountains around him anymore, his mind drifted to his argument with the other, feeling a bitter taste in his mouth, not just from the idea of them splitting but also from the words he let out, barely filtering them through his brain. 

It seemed like he had really hurt the blonde when talking about the village, not really able to understand why. Maybe he had some memories that included a building, a place or even a person from there, something that made him happy in the past. 

Another sigh went by the weak barrier over his mouth, making him seem even more miserable than he already was, forcing every small creature from the dry plains to pity him, if it was possible for them to show feelings. 

There was no point in lying to himself now. The absence of the taller male's annoying jokes but sometimes really interesting stories from when he traveled on his own before, really made a dent in his happiness, somehow making him regret that they split up. 

On the other hand, he didn't want to get attached to someone, preferring the simplicity of his home, big enough to be perfect for him only. 

But Dream had oddly made himself very likeable, even though sometimes he was just rude and disrespectful, they grew closer to each other to the point where no words were needed to be spoken when they stood toghether, just enjoying each other's company, making life seem really simple at the beginning compared to the part they got to now, the so called 'drama'. 

Without really caring where he was going now, vaguely remembering the direction of his house, he zoned out, completely unaware of the certain masked figure following him, completely out of breath from running all the way here, at least a couple of hours of walking. 

_"GEORGE!"_

The familiar voice startled him, immediately turning around and sincerely hoping for it to vanish into thin dust any given time. He wasn't real, his mind was playing tricks on him- 

_"Please wait"_

George bit his lips and immediately let out a whine, and somewhat resembling a sob. Finally, the last gesture that signaled that he was okay with the blonde being here were his arms stretching out, inviting him for a hug. 

Dream dashed towards his direction, tackling him to the ground into a massive hug, followed by a fat river of tears sliding down the brunettes cheeks, wetting the collar of his shirt. 

_"I'm sorry Georgie- I didn't... I didn't want to yell at you earlier"_ this time Dream cried out, the first time he let himself become so vulnerable in front of someone since his first additions to the trophy room _"Please don't leave me... I don't want to be alone again"_ his face was buried deep into the other's chest, too afraid to let go of the material of his jacket , scared he'll dissappear again. 

Another chocked sob came from the blonde, calmed down by George's warm hand placed securely around his back, rubbing intricate patterns over the thick material of his hoodie. 

"Only if you promise the same" his head now rested on top of the other's, giving a small smile. 

_"I promise"_ followed by a hiccup. 

"Then... You are stuck with me forever" 

_"I really wish forever is really long then"_ they both smiled at this sentence, content that one of them decided to be more firm about them staying toghether. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Broooo I'm 1000% sure y'all hate me so much now :') 
> 
> _____________
> 
> I really need all of you babies to vote whether you'd like a happy ending or a sad/angsty one since I have to know which direction I'm going with the boys lol (yay! I'm giving you options and the voting will end on 6th of September, somewhen at night for me, probably really late sooo )
> 
> On a side note- AAAAaaaaa we are at 2000+ hits!!! I never thought I'd get more than 1000 to be honest but you all make me so happy and motivated to keep going <333
> 
> I love you all little cuties and I can't thank you enough really :)


	11. Mending Fissures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A morbid discovery breaks the plans the two had for future adventures in halves, forcing them to lay low for a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SKDNKSKSKSK I'm honestly so sorry for this really really long break but I've had some bussiness with school starting and all that jazz but now I'm vibing and I picked up on this book again!! Yay!!
> 
> Also this chapter is a little graphic so if you're not cool with that, I suggest you don't read this but really it's up to you :)

How do you know you're stuck with someone, someone annoying on top of that, before it's too late and you're deeply attached to them, refusing to let anything happen to them? 

George might have asked himself this countless times by now, at every moment he had for himself, when he wasn't sleeping or working on something around his base or the village they had left not long ago. It was a clearly unique question he had no answer to, or wouldn't have one until further into his endeavors with Dream, the masked figure he grew quite fond of. 

The way back to his house was now one of the best things he had ever experienced. The crickets that jumped out of their ways, through the thick blades of greenish grass, seemed quite the distraction when he moved his glance from the taller male, now rambling about something from his past, a story he had already heard at least a couple of times. 

_"... and then we left-... George?"_ Dream paused and glanced at the brunette, now fully aware he wasn't paying the slightest amount of attention to him _"George!"_

Almost like he was woken up from some kind of trance, George glanced at him, in a seemingly annoyed way. The blonde noticed the same brown eyes he adored look at the white material of his mask and then his lips curling into a sweet smile. 

"What?" the male chuckled "Bothered I'm not paying attention to you? Woow- You're so cling-" 

_"I-I'm not!"_

"Now go on with your story, I'm listening this time... I promise" the cheeky smile never seemed to leave his face as he put up his pinky, interlocking it with Dream's. 

_"I don't want to say it anymore... And I don't even remember what I was telling you!"_ he pouted and shoved his hands deep into the pouch of the hoodie, already filled with various materials and objects, not really of use at the moment. 

A sigh and one groan later, they were walking in complete silence again, taking in the scent of a nearby water source, probably a slow river, one which the salmon loved to swim in, but especially leave their eggs in. It didn't seem quite the 'model parent' behavior but it worked out for them so it's been like that for at least few millennia. 

Another thing that was worth writing down was maybe the fact that they were nearing the desertic area around his house, the same biome that bleed out into a savanna, home to his Nether portal and his discovery of the respawn system, and also a 'landmark' that they were near his house. 

Almost as of thinking the same thing, the boys turned to look one at another with the equally dumb smile that could signify only one thing. 

They were home. 

Or at least close to it. 

"I hope the crops are okay" George spoke softly "It seems like it rained here so I hope the ground didn't crack... I wouldn't have anything to feed the animals if the wheat died... Speaking of animals! Oh I wonder what are they doing right now... Probably famished" he rubbed he back of his head, the worry consuming the last thoughts he had left.

 _"Calm down... I'm sure they are fine"_ Dream reasurred, throwing one of his arms around the brunette's shoulders, giving a warm smile _"You worry too much about them and too little about yourself... Just relax and I promise everything will be fine"_

Now, if anything wasn't safe and sound as he had promised, it was most certainly he would have to comfort him later, maybe even sit by his bed when and if he decided to sleep, as he did a few times before their journey, only after noticing that the shorter male had become less productive and more irritated. 

It surely perplexed him to see the so caring and kind hearted George be so rude and... Speaking of rude and being perplexed... Why did he act that way when George left him? Was he getting attached? He definitely was- No doubt, but was it a healthy attachment or would he end up the one hurt again. 

Luckily, the train of thoughts whose break lever had seemed to stop working was interrupted by a familiar voice and a halt to their walk. 

"Dream! The house-!" he was interrupted by the blonde's own gasp at the desolate landscape before them. 

The shack which he had spent so much time, love and energy on was burnt to the ground, the various items that didn't burn or melt in the fire sprawled around the area, barely visible from the distance they were at. The neatly tied fences were pulled out of the ground, laying lifelessly around the field, some of them even missing or stuck in the fast river waters. Yet, the thing that seemed the most disturbing out of them was the faint stench of rotting meat and the reddish mass around the crops which were also trampled and ruined, a red string, or something red, almost greenish tied around a stick from the fence and poked into the ground, more closer to them than to the zone. 

With no hesitation, but also ignoring the odd smell, they both started running towards the broken structures, deciding to first check the animal shed's and see if their suspicions were true. 

"Hurry up Dream!" George yelled even though the other was on his tail the whole time. 

Not long before they reached the fenced area, a darker green than the rest of the plains. And there it was, the thing he had never wanted to see ever in his life...a few chicken carcasses bundled up and already rotten and consumed by various grubs and worms, the wooden pieces used for the fence, each and everyone one of them broken in half and messed up, some of them even burned to ashes. Next to them, laid on the ground a big pile of bones, guts and bloodied leather, emitting of a highly unpleasant smell but also covering a piece of wood that seemed to have something written on it, or at least carved into it. 

With tears in his eyes, the brunette reached for the piece of wood with no hesitation and turned it around to see anything that could help him catch the culprit, even a single letter, or a message if the thief felt kind enough. 

After turning it around and inspecting it for the longest he could, he tossed it somewhere behind him, looking at the mass before him in disbelief. 

He had already began to feel lightheaded from the smell so he had to get Dream's help. 

"Help me up please" 

Immediately, he was lifted up, feeling two warm hands on his back and under his knees, following by the surprise of passing out, eventually falling limp in the taller male's arms, that now panicked and looked anywhere for a place where the smell was less noticeable and he wouldn't get sick instantly.

Settling on the river's shore, he sat down and cradled the smaller male in his arms, careful to wash his hands that had a few splotches of blood on them, most likely from digging in the pile. Other than that, he slept peacefully, unaware of the horrors he had to wake up and take care of. 

_"Oh George... How do you get in so much trouble cause of me? "_ his head now rested carefully on top of George's _"You almost get kicked to death by a horse, then you get drugged and now your little house and the animals are dead"_ he whispered, feeling guilty and responsible for the crimes he hadn't done. 

A few more minutes of silence and Dream couldn't have resisted the urge to go after the one he suspected of this- Tommy, and his disgusting friends, same people that have helped him kidnap his friend and turn his older pals against him. 

"The house.... Oh if only I didn't agree with you and went to that village" the weak voice spoke again. 

_"I know... I know"_

"Why am I the only one that end up hurt because of you? It's not my fault... I don't want this- I think... I think I've had enough of people taking their revenge on you by destroying things I hold dear" his glossy eyes were accompanied by a trembling lip and rosy cheek from the shock. 

_"I can leave-"_ again, Dream got interrupted. 

"But at the same time I don't want you to leave" his shaky arms wrapped around his torso, giving a weak squeeze "You are annoying and really rude and honestly so hard to please... but you kinda nice when you want to" a snort came from him but ended up sounding like he choked since his stuffed nose didn't allow any air to pass through "And you know so many things but you're also weird and I think I want to stay friends with you... I mean unless you don't want to "a chuckle went past his lips, even if it wasn't the right time to. 

_"No- no no no! I want to be friends with you-"_

Almost sure George was going to respond with something sassy, he already had a comeback ready but the moment of his mouth opening again never came. Instead, a comfortable silence washed over them, even if the situation seemed the last degree of desperate. Surely, it wasn't everyday your house is burned to the ground and your animals are brutally slaughtered, but both seemed to forget about the situation since the wind blew in a different direction and they didn't look back at the damage. 

Even if he didn't want to bother the other, the blonde had to get up and begin looking around for things they could salvage, or maybe a way to get rid of the cadavers, the melted iron and gold around the remainings of the shack and get the zone back to being normal and not just a picture ripped out of a book about wars. 

_"You know we have to clean this up, yeah?"_

"Mhmm" 

_"So what are you waiting for"_

"It's no use" 

_"Huh? Wait... what? Why?"_

"It's getting dark and I'm already tired as hell" George defended his case, and he was true, to some extent. 

_"Mhmm... Sure, sure"_ they both giggled tiredly. 

It couldn't be called 'dark' as the sky was now a pretty combination of purples, oranges and yellows, all of them blending out into various shapes around the horizon, eventually stopping on them, the last sun rays warming them up. 

_"Get up"_

"No-" 

_"Let's go to that cave in the birch forest"_

"How do you know about it" 

_"I know this place like the palm of my hand... Don't think you're special for knowing about a hole in the ground"_

"Wow- Rude" 

Nonetheless, they both sat up and picked their bags off the ground, glad they didn't end up stained by the bundles of 'surprises' around the whole area. They made their way on the side of the forest, through the thinnest part of the river, where it barely resembled a line, more like a petite puddle and began to look around for wood to start a campfire. 

Kindly enough, the sun remained up for a few more minutes, time in which the necessary materials were gathered and they made their way into the cave safely. Only then, the sun went down and was immediately replaced by the moon, signaling all the creatures and monsters to come out and lurk in the humid forest, looking for any possible victims. 

Inside the grotto, the two began to bicker again, this time on who will start the fire, obviously the other commenting on the technique and materials used for actually starting it. 

_"Just use a match from my bag"_ Dream commented while laying down on his hoodie. 

"I can do it with flint" 

_"Then do it already"_

"If you'd shut up, it would have been done since we came in" and just as these words were spoken, the dried moss busted aflame and lit up the whole cave in a faint yellowish tint. 

_"Wow congratulations- Finally after freezing to death you managed to start a fire. Woohoo!"_ The blonde sarcastically cheered and waved his hands in the air while grinning endlessly, soon joined by the other. 

"Wooow- Just shut up?" he busted out laughing, resting against one of their bags, filled with something soft, maybe a jacket or one of Dream's shirts he refused to change into, even if it was boiling hot outside. 

_"Make me"_ he purred and rolled to his side, looking at the brunette through his mask, ending up playing with one of the aglets from his hoodie. 

"You're lucky this fire is separating us or I would have surely would" his eyes rolled and he settled down again, turning his back to the other, earning a 'rude' from him, in the same tone he has used, almost like he was mimicking him. 

Deciding to block Dream out of his mind for the rest of the evening, his mind had drifted back to the time he left his house, when the small pack of chickens used to roam around the house, looking for shelter from either the scorching sun or the gentle rain, when he used to sit on his knees all day and tend to the garden while the blonde either napped or told him a story about his old adventures. It seemed so complicated back then, like he had the most difficult task in the world but he was starting to miss it, especially the chicken and the naughty cow that nibbled on anything that it could, preferring his clothes over the rich grass or wheat he bought to it. 

His muddy eyes began to water again as he felt himself begin to shake one more time. It was almost like when he passed out on the plains, only now that the stench was not present and he could actually breathe normally, or as normally as he could with a stuffed nose. 

Desperately trying to not alert the sleeping male in the other side of the cave, he cried quietly but not for long as the overwhelming death of his animals tugged on his weak heart, more weakened by the events of the past days. And just like that, he completely broke down and cried, trying to wipe his tears on something else than his forearm that seemed to only make his eyes itch and hurt more. Just as he had turned around to call for Dream, he noticed the shadow nearing him, the sound of his boots against the hard floor and then the familiar warmth of his hands over his shoulders. 

He whispered: _"Are you awake?"_

"Yeah... Wish I wasn't though-" 

_"Wait wait wait- look at me okay?"_

"Okay" And just like that, the taller male dat down next to him, now feeling his gaze on the same boring mask, with the same dumb smile as always, seeming more happier than the two of them combined. 

_"We'll clean up the place tomorrow and work on the house okay? I'll help you"_ he smiled weakly and wiped his tears _"The foundation you made is still there so we can start from that... It's really sturdy if you ask me"_ he giggled and hoped to make the other smile, even the slightest bit. A short pause came but George's expression remained neutral. 

_"I-I'll help you gather the resources back and I'll try to get some chickens to hang around the house... Even if I have no idea how you did it"_ he rubbed the back of his head, cheeks going a few shades redder from his lack of knowledge in this subject. 

"I wish I knew who did this" he blurted out, making Dream flinch at the sudden interruption of the silence. 

_"Me too... But I'll find out okay? I'll avenge your house and the animals, yeah? Does that sound nice?"_

"Yeah... I think they'd like that" he nodded and closed his eyes, liking the sudden warmth on his side from the taller male massaging his tensed muscles. 

_"Try to get some sleep and if you need anything just call out okay?"_ He smiled sweetly and grabbed his hoodie, and gave it to George, but it was already to late since he was long asleep. Deciding to not let it just hang around, he threw it over the brunette's smaller body and headed out of the cave, armed with a knife and a shovel to try and move the cadavers before the sun rose again, hoping to make the other feel better. 

It wasn't exactly hard but it wasn't easy either. They weren't as heavy as they were when they were alive but the coagualted blood and sprawled out intestines used to tie pieces of the fence one to another added weight. Firstly, he got the chickens and made a generous hole for them, burying them deep enough, making sure that there isn't any trace of their scent coming from the so called 'grave'. Next, came the bones of the bovine, following the same ritual as with the chickens, making a hole and dumping all the meat and remains in it, covering it and putting a few flowers he found around on them. 

_"You're in a better place now"_ he laid on the ground next to them, feeling a little better than the plains only had a really faint scent of death around them, if not for the two graves below the tree, a little further than its base since it would be difficult to dig between its roots.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How was the comeback chapter? I'm sure it wasn't that nice as the others and I didn't even have time to proof-read it so I'll be checking it in the morning. :') 
> 
> Thank you for staying with me through this break! <3


	12. Necessity to Conciliate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After assessing the plans for a house, the two begin to work on it, cracking jokes and forgetting about the traumatic discovery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is kind of bland... Unless? ;)
> 
> I might or might not stir up some drama ;P

Just as the sun cracked it's warm smile between the shy branches of the forest that proved a better shelter than the singular tree, a voice echoed over the fields, making Dream turn over and stare curiously at the figure jumping between the rocks of the path and onto his side. 

It was George, and obviously he seemed in a better mood than he left him in, almost as if he was relieved, but it didn't last long. 

Once near the graves, he took a seat next to his faceless friend and patted the relatively wet dirt and the grass near it, almost as if wishing the innocent animals a safe journey between their realms, from the living to the dead. His eyes, which seemed to full of hope until not a minute ago, looked glossy, like the calm surface of a lake, yet also filled with such hatred for the culprit of the crime, that they could subdue whoever dared stare him down. 

_"I buried them"_ Dream affirmed, leaning back onto his hands. 

The other nodded briefly "Thank you" 

_"Mhmm... I didn't know whether you'd like to see them again today"_

"I figured that out... Thank you again" his head rested onto the blonde's shoulder, letting a sigh fly past his lips. 

Deciding to not rush into gathering materials for the house they were going to build, they laid on the dewy vegetation and shared a few moments of utter silence, not daring to interrupt the ritual they seemed to have each morning, or at least, a majority of the mornings. 

The first one awake of them was Dream, everytime, with no disruptions from the routine. He'd look around the area and assure of its well being, then begin to make something to eat, or if he wasn't feeling that rested, he'd wait for George to wake up and make them something to nibble on, until they got ready for lunch. Then, the brunette stretched as far as he could and sorted things around their backpacks and chests, making sure to leave some piece of meat for each of them if they ever got lost from one another. Yet he was completely sure the other would be able to hunt on his own, but as for him, he wasn't that sure. 

Lastly, after they finished eating, they did something toghether and then went on with the tasks they had for themselves. For example, when they were in the village, George was left to wander on his own around the town, look for something he liked- Books, weapons, tools, materials, and if what he had on him wasn't enough to pay, he'd come to Dream and ask him what he can do with it, deciding in the end if it is really worth it, while Dream traded along the village, with his friend, the town's toolsmiths, the fishermen and butchers for items he could use around his own house. 

_This was such a weird to think of for him._

He'd always seen Dream around his house or the area around it and he wondered if he even had a place he could call home but brushed the thoughts away every time. It was obvious but he never left a trace when he went back to his own place, to either bring something or to store a piece he found of use. 

He is such an odd individual. 

And you've probably heard that a few hundred times by now from him, either calling him weird, odd, confusing or even annoying, yet he never meant any of the words from above. It was simply hard to think of such an interesting male as annoying but sometimes the blonde just proved him wrong. 

Almost as if reading his mind, Dream turned around and flashed a toothy grin, but never saying a word. 

They both chuckled lightly and stared one another down, almost as in a competition of who would look away first. Even though the mask was covering his eyes, he could feel when he blinked, followed by a loud exclamation: 

"I won!" 

_"W-What... What? This wasn't a competition-? You can't even see my eyes-!"_

"I know you blinked" he wore a smug smile, crossing his arms over his chest uncomfortably since they were laying down. "And by the way you reacted... You just confirmed it!" he cackled loudly and held onto his stomach to not pass out. 

On the other hand, Dream's checks glowed red with embarrassment, followed suit by biting at his already chapped lips confused. 

_"Wow.... Just-- Wow"_

"What" 

_"How did you know-"_ he sat up right _"For real now-"_

A few moments of silence in which George had seemed to think about his answer, giving it deep thought. 

"You blinked too aggresively" 

_"I- what?"_

"Your cheeks moved when you blinked 'cause your eyes dried out" 

_"What-...? My eyes did what? What are you talking about? "_ he couldn't contain himself and let out a monstrous wheeze, earning a few chuckles from the other as well.

And so, they both sat up, glancing at the graves for a few more moments before the decided to gather materials for the house. 

It wasn't easy labor and they both knew it, yet made a promise to always crack jokes when they felt tired so they could stay awake for a little bit longer, work a little bit more and get a few more things done in that day. 

Over the course of an entire week, they gathered the logs used as pillars, the stone they are going to use to fill in the walls and the floor, in the crevices that he missed and thought about a roof that wouldn't be flown off during the first serious storm that was coming at it. 

The two males learned a lot of things about one another during this time, some things that were really obvious but some that didn't seem to belong to them at all. 

George noticed that Dream began to tell him more about his past, much earlier than the adventure stories he constantly witnessed, sometimes mentioning a Sapnap but never the names of the other two friends of his. When he asked what they are doing at the moment, he simply shrugged and gave a vague answer. In the village, mining, in the Nether, traveling on far lands, yet the answer never seemed to be 'home', or at least a place they've visited recently. 

One thing also worth mentioning was that the two began to sleep on the same mattress, or at least the same pieces of textile material since the weather got way colder that it should've been this time, also making the cave seem a worse shelter than before. The fire could be kept alive for so long, so, they worked almost an entire day for a cover of the cave's gaping mouth, with a simple mechanism that allowed one half of it to open and close, keeping in any warmth they might have. 

Once, Dream fell asleep before George, while the brunette was sculpting a few pieces of wood for another thing they were going to build tomorrow, but the peace didn't last for too long. 

He began to squirm, whine and move around in his sleep, constantly calling out to the same Sapnap he couldn't assign a face to, ending up with him awake and drenched in his own sweat. 

George remembers asking him the same old, bland question 'Are you okay?' 

The answer was always 'Yeah, just a nightmare' when he woke up from a nap. 

And then they would always move on and talk about anything at all- The plans for the house, what are they going to eat for dinner or breakfast the next day, whether they should visit the Nether again or maybe go mining when they had more times to themselves but any plans they had were cut by mistakes or malfunctions fo the things they built the day before. 

The pillars always seemed so crooked when they came to check on them the next day, the door hesitated to swing open as Dream intended it to do, the cobblestone fell outside the designated places so it had to be picked up and set straight again. 

Counting the days until the house would be done seemed, perhaps, the easiest task to do by far, each of them adding a new line to the bark of the tall oak as the days went by, finally landing on a total of 58 lines, close to almost two months. 

Of course, it would have been finished in less time than that if they decided to actually work on it and not chase one another with the pieces of wood, throw rocks and see if they hit the other's boots, ending in them earning each a point for every metallic clink that could be heard from a successful shot, or just laying in the sun for as long as they could.

They would often end up in the cave earlier than the last day since the days began to get shorter and shorter, following after the orange tint that the forest seemed to embrace more and more. Without a doubt, autumn was beginning to make her presence felt. 

Time inside the shelter didn't seem to go by as slow as they expected since there was always something to talk about, some parts of the walls that they haven't already used to store tools and more voluminous objects, things they didn't learn about each other yet. 

It was such a nice feeling, having someone to test your own tea, eat a stretchy mutton and some plain bread with, while joking and making all kinds of plans. 

Time passed fast and the house was done, roof and all the windows stained in a pretty dark reddish color, fitting to the season they were currently in. Dream had also suggested they paint something on the door and George had one of the best ideas- a white circle with a little dumb smiley face and the pair of glasses whose owner's hand was skilled in art. It fit the scenario quite well. 

A storage system developed by the blonde was the finishing piece for it, deciding to sort the items in the various chests, boxes and bottles as soon as they could since it would get messy if they delayed it much longer. Something interesting that was also added to the area they called 'living room' was a generous fireplace, which was mostly used as a heat source. 

It wasn't a big house from the outside, but the three rooms that stuck toghether to make the inside made it seem very spacious and cozy. Firstly, the biggest room out of them was the kitchen and living area mushed into a single room, with all kinds of materials hung on the wall, signs which carried a list of things Dream suggested acquiring and a poorly put toghether couch. Then, a nice bedroom with two beds, equal in size, even though his faceless friend denied the need of having a second place to sleep, he still gave in and helped him build another one. In the bedroom, there laid a box for each of them to store extra clothing in, weapons they wouldn't be using at the moment and personal objects, though Dream never gave anything up, not even his carving knife. 

Thirdly, but also lastly was the room where most of the interesting processes took place in, also called the 'Crafting room'. It held workbenches, a generous furnace that could actually make ingots with a normal shape, melt the scrap pieces and separate bare ores from stone and other residues. In this room was also situated the entire storing area, chests on top of chests and boxes, filled with things he acquired during this time. Mainly leather, string he had spend days on braiding, sacs, wood, sticks, flint and anything that had a connection to the underground and the ground. 

Now, the only thing left to do was test how they would actually make the whole house warm, using only the fireplace in the middle of it. 

"Dream?" 

_"Hmm?"_ he hummed groggily. 

"Wake up Dream" George poked at the still asleep male, on his own bed, or the primitive thing they called bed, yet was very comfortable. 

Suddenly, the blonde was sitting upright, running a hand through his hair _"Did I fall asleep?"_

"Oh yeah- You slept like a baby all night" a soft smile came from him "You didn't move once" 

_"Ah... I-I see"_ this was followed by a short chuckle and another hand ran though his hair, almost as if looking for a missing piece _"Is the sun up?"_

"It's midday" 

_"Why didn't you wake me up earlier?"_ He bit his lip furiously and sat up, gripping both his shoulders, ending up in a staring contest with the brunette. 

"You're mad for no reason- You caught up on some sleep and I already did all the stuff for today on my own-" he pouted "-I can do stuff on my own, you know-" 

_"George..."_ he sighed and looked away, not wanting to fall victim to his puppy eyes _"I know you can do stuff but it's easier if you let me help you"_

Suddenly, the shorter male's warm hands were placed on Dream's much colder ones as he smiled once more, radiating the heat of a balmy day while reasurring him once again that no harm has been done, and he wasn't mad for not waking him up. Since half of the day has already flown by, they both decided to explore some caves that opened their mouths onto the nearby hills to gather some more ores and learn more about the underground area of George's house. 

_"Oh god-"_ The blonde wheezed, holding his stomach 

"What- What? Dream what did you do" 

_"You spelled..."_ he couldn't finish his sentence that another set of chuckles left his mouth, leaving him prey to the gruesome laughter. 

"Spell? What did I spell...?" confusion dripped from his tone. 

_"You spelled my name... Wrong! Dram"_ more uncontrollable giggles _"D-R-A-M!"_

Once noticing his mistake, he tried to do anything to defend himself, either by saying that he was tired, or that he got distracted by none other than 'Dram' or that he wasnt paying attention, anything at all so he didn't have to accept the humiliation of not knowing how to spell. 

Yet he didn't escape the teasing that continued a good period of time after this. 

Even the walk to one of the cave entrances was filled with jokes which ended in both parties laughing this time, but when he felt like he went to far, Dream stopped and giggled to himself for a few more minutes, then completely gave up the idea and focused on their next task: finding a good place so they could get inside the underground mineshaft he learned about from George. 

Then, the blonde picked up a piece of coal from the ground and let his messenger bag down, earning a 'What are you doing' from the other. He began to smudge the rock on the material which almost earned him a smack on the back of his neck of he didn't answer. 

_"I'm writing my name"_

"Wow you don't know your name? What a lose-" 

_"Look at it again, stove"_ he cackled at the nickname that seemed to go unnoticed. 

"It's dark-" he laughed even though he managed to distinguish the misspelled name, then his eyes moved to the stick they used as a light source, now thrown carelessly on the ground, left to move around on its own on the slight ramp"Watch out so the torch doesn't get-" this was interrupted by the satisfying sound of burning coals getting extinguished "-wet..." 

He rolled his eyes at his carelessness and crouched down, looking for the torch, using his hand as a guide. 

_"Wow George you can't even look out for a stick-"_ he heard a jerky applause followed by the sound of someone slipping on something and finally, a generous thud accompanied by a few crackles of bones. 

"Don't break your legs" 

_"If I break them you'll have to carry me~"_

"I'll just leave you here to die" 

_"Wow soooo rude- You meant that I carried you, I saved you, I helped you build your house... And this is what I get? Okay- Fine! Leave me to rot in this moist cave if that's what you think I deserve"_

"Do you ever shut up-?" A few steps echoed around the tight space. 

_"No"_

Dream felt a hand on his back and one under his knees, then the fear of getting picked up. The panic dissipated quickly since the brunette seemed quite sure of his strength since he picked up someone the size of him. 

Only now noticing that there is a problem with his knee, he let out a low mewl and moved George's hand away from it. 

"Does it hurt?" 

_"No"_

The warm hand moved once again right below his knees and a loud yelp came from him the moment they began to see the light, meaning that there were only a few more steps until they got our of this grotto. They didnt go that deep inside as Dream spotted some iron not that far inside, but traveling through all the tunnels and holes made it a little hard to remeber the way out. 

"You're lying" 

_"Yeah..."_

"Did you fall on your knee?" he looked at the wet part of his pants, right above the knee. 

_"I slipped on slime- Ugh it smells so gross"_

"Huh? I can't smell anything" 

_"I used to hunt slimes for a living so I know what they smell like"_ he retorted 

"Is that true? Tell me more" he wanted to do anything to distract him from the pain in his knee. 

_"I was so young back then"_ he cooed _"And I was trying to find something so I could earn emeralds 'cause a toolsmith in the town I'm from, used to have one of the best swords I ever held in my hand! But they were so expensive and I was basically thrown out of my parent's house"_ he gave a dumb grin _"Apparently they had to take care of my sister so there was no more room for me"_

"That's rude" 

_"Yeah but that got me where I am"_ he shrugged and leaned his head against George's slowly rising chest, liking the extra warmth _"I learned to make everything when I was like... Hmmm- Maybe thirteen? Fourteen maximum"_

"Really?" 

_"Yeah"_ he smiled at the sight of the house they spend to much work on but turned out to be an absolute beauty _"A kind merchant took care of me and showed me the world after I left my village... Hmm yeah- He showed me the world- The oceans, the never-ending deserts and mesa plateaus"_ the blonde used his hand to gesticulate. 

George continued to humm once in a while, to show that he was paying attention to what the other was saying, even if he was careful to not break a leg when he passed the river. 

Finally, just as Dream finished his story, they reached the house and the taller was set on the couch, with a pack of freezing water from the river on both his knees, to avoid any inflammation. 

"Don't you find it weird that I didn't have a childhood in this world?" he blurted once he was also seated near the warm fireplace that selfishly ate at the thick logs it was being fed. The wooden floor was warm enough so that he didn't need a blanket. 

The room seemed to fall into a weird silence, interrupted constantly by the crackles of the fire and various sounds from outside the house. From various rattles of skeletons and groans of various insects to an occasional screech of a lonely bat, but that was all that was heard. Between the two boys a thick tension settled, thick enough to be cut by knife. 

One of the bags had fallen to the ground but none of them paid it any mind. 

_"You don't... Remember?"_ Dream slowly turned to look at George with a slight pity but also worry _"You don't know who Sapnap is?"_ he earned a viguros shook of his head. 

**"You don't remember him?"**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ohohohoho is Dream getting comfortable with George? 
> 
> He is also so confused? What is happening ;}
> 
> I guess we'll have an answer tomorrow ;]


	13. Macabre Request

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George is surprised at a certain plea from his friend but ends up giving in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> KSKSJDKDKSKS another chapter I won't get to proof-read until tomorrow I'm so sorry :')
> 
> Please accept this primitive thing until I clean it and I apologize in advance for any confusion that might appear during the lecture. ;-;
> 
> Hope you're all going amazing <3

George pondered for a few moments at the question that bounced between them, obviously waiting to be answered. 

"Should... Should I remember?" he turned to look at the blonde, already facing his direction. "I mean- I- uhm... I have no idea who he is... You used to tell me so much about him and-" his mouth fell agape. 

_"What- And? What did I do?"_

The brunette's eye widened considerably as he sat up and took a seat on the couch, next to Dream's swollen knee, looking at it tenderly. 

"You talked to me about him 'cause you expected me to know him!" 

_"Well you don't? Not even... Nothing at all?"_

"No-... WAIT" he turned once again to face the other "What did he look like?" 

The other was taken aback by the question and gave it deep thought, tapping his chin along the way, accentuating the fact that he was searching through memories. 

_"He... He was your height- Hmm maybe a little taller- Definitely a little taller. He always wore a white bandana on his head to hold back his hair-"_

"What color was his hair" 

_"A really dark blue- Or at least his hair looked blue in sunlight"_

"Okay... Go on" 

_"I can't remember much"_ he lied with no hesitation, earning a nod from the other that actually believed him _"It was such a long time ago... But I know was a really good archer"_

He said, which was more than true. In fact, Sapnap tutored him in arching, always laughing at his mistakes but when he got serious, he could shoot the fastest of foxes and chickens. It was clear that they were both agile hunters, extremely deadly... Well Sapnap used to be. 

"Did you guys split up- Or...? What happened? You two seemed close-" 

_"Dead"_

"What?" 

_"He's-"_ Dream swallowed dryly and rested against the soft cushion, hands grasping one another tightly _"He's dead"_

"Hasn't he respawned?" George asked out of pure curiosity but ended up regretting his decision once the blonde began to shake lightly. 

_"I've been waiting for seven years... does it seem like he respawned?"_

Both of them fell silent and just stared at their feet, George at his scratched boots and Dream at his bruised, naked ankles while shivering lightly. 

"No... " 

_"Then? You think I would be here if he was alive? I would be far over the ocean"_ he muttered, bitterly.

"I'm sorry" a small whisper came from the brunette. 

_"It's- Ugh... Let's just forget about this... We never talked about Sapnap and since- uh- you don't ... don't even remember him- That's better"_ he spoke weirdly, searching for his words and stopping when sentences refused to articulate in his brain, finally let out a groan once he placed his feet on the ground and tried to sit up. 

Eventually giving up on trying to stand up, he fell back into the soft cushion and covered his face with both sleeves, or at least the pieces that were still exposed beneath his mask. 

_"It's broken"_

"What broke" 

_"The fucking knee"_ he spat. 

"You should have been more careful... What are we going to do?" he spoke softly and eyed the blackish bruise, right below a scar of some sort, probably from burning his flesh. "It doesn't look that good" 

_"No shit"_

"Dream I'm just trying to help you" 

_"Just snap my neck already"_ he rolled his eyes and crawled back into a laying down position, without moving his already bent knee much. 

"What good is it going to do" 

_"I'll respawn... Not here though"_ he grumbled _"And I'll be fine- It takes an hour-"_ he stopped himself once he met George's shocked gaze. 

"But I don't want to kill you" he whined and his muddy eyes watered lightly, lip trembling just as softly as he spoked. 

_"George?"_

"No-" 

_"George!"_

A short pause came in which the aforementioned refused to look at him in any way, even more hesitating to answer. 

"What" his nose was stuffy. 

_"Do you trust me?"_

"Yeah of course what kind of stupid questi-" 

_"I'll be fine, okay? You have to count until 7200, yeah? That's more than enough for me to respawn and be back here, and be able to actually use my legs"_

"I'm not counting until-" 

_"Yeah I know"_ he gave a short laugh 

"Stop interrupting my sent-" 

_"I think you should do it before it gets dark... So it could be a little easier for me to get back"_ he giggled once noticing that he interrupted the other again _"Okay I mean- Unless you want me to suffer more-"_

"No! I-I mean... No I'll do it now" 

Dream sat up and grimaced at the light cracking of his bones, this time because he stretched a little just before placing his foot on the ground 

_"Quick reminder-"_ he spoke, right when he felt George's warm hands on the sides of his faces. 

"Your head is in my hands Dream... Say something stupid and I'm not letting you finish it" he gave a small laugh but still paid close attention to the corners of the blonde's mouth, which curled into a sharp-toothed grin. 

_"Okay okay"_ his hands were raised in the air, defending his ego _"There's two things you have to know about, yeah?-"_ this earned a nod. _"-My body- Well corpse, will be here for an hour or so, so if you want to know when I'll be back exactly, never blink once"_ he grinned and felt his cheek getting pinched _"Ow-! It will dissappear on his own so you don't have to dispose of it"_

"Yeah... Okay sure" he grinned "I'll finally be able to see who hides under the mask~" he sing-songed but was cut short. 

_"Don't"_ his smile had died out and was replaced by one of the most serious faces he had seen him wear. His lips and cheek didn't give out any emotions as he stated on thing clear. _"If you take my mask off I'll be very mad"_

To any normal person, 'very mad' could maybe mean that they wouldn't talk to someone at all after that, maybe even prank them and give them the cold shoulder for a few days, but for Dream? It had a really _interesting_ meaning. Even a blind man could know what is going to happen if he dares take the mask off, so should you. He was very cautious about showing his face, or more than his mouth. 

Even though he was scary, he had been an honest person for quite a long time now, offering to pay the whole price for something, even if there was a sale. It didn't matter whether it was an ender pearl or one of the shiniest netherite swords. The price didn't change. 

It's just that- He hasn't been like this since he was born. The kind merchant that took care of him? A thief, a criminal, if not one of the most wanted ones. The little Dream? The same one that followed said merchant around towns, learning to steal things and pulling all kinds of pranks? He changed, but not on his own accord. The few generous beatings he took from iron golems and blacksmiths seemed enough to make him change his mind, living as a nomad for no more than three years. 

"I was joking" he flashed a warm smile. 

_"Okay- Good... Now: put your hand on the back on my head, your dominant one- Tch- The other one."_

"This one?" 

_"You said you're left-handed, so the left hand goes on the back"_ he rolled his eyes underneath his mask, almost feeling like George rolled his own at him. 

_"Very good... Now the other one goes on my chin, the palm should rest on it"_ it felt oddly weird to teach someone how to snap his own neck. 

"Like this?" 

_"Not really but we'll just have it like that"_

"What do I do now?" He asked confusedly since he didn't find a need to know how to eleminate someone until now. 

_"You twist it as hard as you can"_ he put his hands up to signal that he had to explain something else _"If you don't use all your force I'll end up being only paralyzed and in a lot of pain-"_

"How do you know that?" 

_"Friends"_

"This way?" he moved his head a little to indicate the direction. 

_"Doesn't matter"_ he clenched his teeth when George accidentally hit his wounded knee _"Oh my gosh just twist-"_

The sickening crunch of bones echoed inside the room and suddenly, the male sitting down had stopped speaking, moving or flinching when he touched his knee. 

It was a scary sensation. Knowing that he killed his own friend, and now, his lifeless body laid on the couch, next to him, seemingly enjoying the fire as much as he did. His hands have already started to grow cold, even if just a few minutes had passed. 

George's heart allowed itself to slow down, calming his lungs as well. He stumbled into a tranquil state, watching the hungry flames dance and shrivel up in the fireplace, putting on a show for the now alone male. 

The room was almost the same since they built it, or better said, finished building it. On the walls, the only addition was a white pickaxe, an iron one, scratched and botched so much that it looked more like an elongated axe. Next to it, a few nails were stuck in the wall, that held their raincoats, jackets and various leather straps used to secure various things around their hips. The lower sides of the walls were scribbled with all kinds of recipes, potions, alchemical reactions or even purely cosmetic ones. To the right of the fireplace, in an almost parallel position laid a box, a table, filled with both George's and Dream's books, clearly separated by a turquoise line. 

Inside the bedroom, the brunette's collection of pillows and flowers in the vase beside his bed grew bigger and bigger as his friend often used to go out right when the sun came up, only to come home when it went dark, but never forgetting to bring him something from his journeys. The souvenirs he often received were bones, of various shapes and size, even colors, from the finest whites to a muddy green, flowers, tree seeds that they would plant and water the next day, and of course, a bag of wool from an unlucky sheep, used by the handy male to make the mattress and pillows more comfortable.

And then, ten minutes have passed, since George's counter got to 600 now, the sun already beginning it's downfall without a care in the world. 

Without a care in the world... What else did he see that had the same behavior and never seemed bothered? 

The salmon of course, salmon which was probably now in the ground with the chickens as well since he hasn't seen any in the river when he passed it, both when he lef the house and when he came back with a certain blonde in his arms. 

"Dream?" He called out and swallowed dryly when no one answered. 

The corpse stood in the same position, clothes wrinkled as always, his shorts lifting up just a little bit more to show scratches and burns on his thighs and above the knee. The thing that got them to where they were, seemed to look worse than ever, already having a stench of dried blood since, without any warning, Dream began to dissect it, right in the living room, to see if he could get rid of the tension between the bones, thus making the pain a little bearable. Even more than that, the metalic smell was followed by a sweet, grassy texture that filled both the room and couch when he laid on it, tired after a long day of exploring. 

'He is so brave' George always told himself. 

In his eyes, everything the blonde did seemed so calculated and so planned that just one precise outcome would be possible. The fact that he didn't hesitate to cut a finger off, to stop the spread of venom through his body, impressed him terribly and he looked at him in such awe and admiration, quite the same a child would feel when watching their favorite superhero win a battle. Only that their life was a continuous battle with the world, every night being a silent celebration amongst themselves. 

When Dream bursts through the door, he expects him to have all ten of his fingers and two unbruised knees, perfect for running around, walking and lifting himself off the ground. 

Speaking of the ground- George managed to catch a glimpse of a reddish stone when they were in the mine but couldn't manage to inspect it that the other had already fractured something. It got him curious but he couldn't leave his faceless friend in pain while he investigated, so he made a mental note to check it out next time, even if Dream would laugh at him, probably because it's some common material they could easily get. 

Now that he was thinking for about it, he didn't really have a serious mining session until now, mainly using the resources on the surface or really shallow caves. He hasn't mined a diamond until now and the ones he stored in the burned hut were nowhere to be seen. They were probably stolen and that angered him, not only because he didn't take advantage of them, but also because he hesitated whether he should use them for a sword when they traveled to the village, even then being modest and sticking to a poorly forged, iron one. 

Even though he didn't have the necessary materials, the blonde explained to him how to use them most efficiently, how to sharpen the blades of both axes and swords, how the handle needs to be attached to it so it would last a maximum amount, all of these while building the house. It didn't feel like he was talking to his friend anymore, but more like he was conversing with a walking encyclopedia. 

The same 'encyclopedia' told him stories of fortresses and the mighty beasts that awaited inside, the monstrous ghasts and even the tame striders that enjoyed the viscous lava at the bottom of the netherrack islands. Since they were talking about the Nether and the things they could use from the boiling dimension, he had also been explained what a brewing stand was, how he can assemble one on his own and most importantly, explained the recipes in the book he almost forgot about buying. All he remebered was that the best potions you could get were the 'Strenght' one and of course the 'Instant Health' one, which kind of confused him. 

But even then, Dream was kind enough to show him what an 'Health Pot' was, as he called them, by hitting him in the side and waiting for a few hours so that it bruised, then asking him to pour a little over the tender flesh, seeing it go back to it's rosy color in a few seconds.

It was such an amazing thing to see for George, that he was eager to make one of his own until his hope was crushed by a new piece of theory in his problem. He would need to kill a blaze and hope that one of its rods remains intact until he retrieves it. He had also been instructed to use an axe and aim for their head since the arms, or tentacles, or even limbs were hard as obsidian and if they did break, they released a boiling magma mixture, highly corrosive. The blonde had also mentioned something of a lava fountain inside the fortress, but he couldn't be bothered to remember anything more about it. 

While thinking about all the amazing things he heard the past couple months, he felt the weight on the other side of the couch lift up, suddenly no trace of the other on it. 

Maybe he got so carried away that he forgot to count...? He definitely forgot to count the moments the corpse would vanish and Dream would be alive again, now running through the vast area that separated their homes. Oddly enough, he had two shelters, the one only he knew about and the house he occasionally shared with George that proved to be more knowledgeable than he had expected someone his 'age' to be. He proved a fast learner and always yearning for something new to do, even if he got hurt in the process.

Now, once he neared almost twenty-five minutes, give or take, since the corpse has vanished, he sat up and began to wander around the house, looking at every little memory he made along the walls. Most of them were jokes between the two, especially the 'Dram' one, which was written on almost all the wooden pillars inside the house, the ones that help hold up the roof, in a blackish, creamy stone- charcoal most probably, since they had a lot from the fireplace. 

Something he also absolutely adored were the nicknames they gave one another, written on the wooden headresters of each their beds. The blonde has received the 'Dreamy' one, carved beautifully into the wood, by none other than the brunette , as for him, the name that adorned his bed was 'Gogy', with a thin connection to his glasses. 

His glasses... Dream almost seemed interested in them but he didn't know why- He, himself, had an abundance of weird but exquisite things for himself, most importantly the mask, then his sickly, lime hoodie and scarred hands, which weren't really an accessory, but he acted like he wore jewelry where the paler skin didn't allow the flesh to get stained by dirt. Not only did, he have a bright blonde hair, somewhat close to the color the trees shaded to, a pleasant, warm honey tint, but from what George had noticed on his terribly expressive face were light freckles, that stretched on his left side of the face until they met his chin. 

Even though he was so calm, something felt a little wrong... The way the fireplace lit the living room? No- It might be the way the windows are opened? Or maybe the fact that footsteps seemed to get near his house, most especially the open windows, with a space wide enough for someone to-! 

"Dream? Dont! Do not!!" he noticed the lime figure running in the last few specks of the sunset, heading directly towards the vast aperture, almost tripping once in a small burrow of some animal by the way he stumbled. 

_"Ooooh Georgeee"_ he sang and leaped through the windows, grinning continously while sprawled on the floor, holding his sides from both the shock of the impact and the uncontrollable laughter. 

Both boys chuckled lightly and soon calmed down, only to begin giggling at something else, repeating the process a few more times until they were quiet once again. 

_"An impressive jump, wasn't it?"_

"You could have broken your neck-" 

_"Yes indeed, it took a lot of effort not to"_

_"Oh my gosh just shut up"_ He was pleasantly surprised to notice both his knees looking the best they could, along with his hands that finally could count past nine. _"You're... Alive"_

_"Yeah"_

"Amazing" 

_"I know I am"_

"I might snap your neck again" he said, lovingly. 

_"Anytime you want"_ Dream made a kissy face and blew a kiss to the other, obviously joking _"You might want to warn me, though."_

Now, the males sat on the floor, George looking straight into his lap, confused as to why his cheeks glew a little red, Dream seemingly fazed by the docile fire in the pit, allowing the other to have a moment of privacy, or the most he could get of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohohoho?
> 
> What is happing again? Did George willingly kill him or was it perhaps with a hidden purpose? ;) 
> 
> Thank you everyone for reading <3


	14. Denuded of Deceptions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream settles for another adventure, deciding to vanish without leaving any traces of his direction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SNSKDNDKDK
> 
> This chapter can get a little violent so viewer discretion is advised!
> 
> Quick reminder, I'm posting this late at night and I don't have time to proof read it, meaning I'll fix the mistakes and this and earlier chapters in the weekend probably. I apologize in advance :')
> 
> I hope everyone is doing amazing and stay epic <3 !!!

Everything plummeted into a serene silence, just after the boys finished eating dinner, settling onto a short reading session. 

They each grabbed a book and shuffled through the pages, Dream way more uninterested in the lecture than the other. The book being held by the brunette, now laying on the floor, had a beautiful dark plum cover, made from leather, binded at the edges with some sticky mass of some sort, a pale green substance that seemed to have dripped when it was manufactured and dried as that. 

Even though he had already memorized everyone in these books by heart, the blonde still enjoyed the movements of his eyes running along the lines, untangling the meaning of each word, each sentence and finally reliving the moments of his youth. 

_"George?"_

"What happened? " he asked but his gaze didn't leave the slightly yellow pages, written in an abnormally small handwriting. In fact, most of the books carried the same clean handwriting, meaning that the author of said books didnt quite live with themselves if they didn't pour all their knowledge into something for others to enjoy too. 

_"Do you trust me?"_

"I'm starting to think you have trust iss-" 

_"I'm serious, George-"_

"Yeah I know" he gave a breathy chuckle "I trust you" 

_"Then you won't mind coming with me tomorrow?"_

"Where are we going" 

_"Visiting an old friend of mine, he's such a great guy, oh- so calm and so smart- truly a blessing to be by his side...really "_ he trailed away, teeth clenched at the insatiable lie he had just vomited on the floor, growing to swallow the brunette whole. 

"Is it far?" finally, the chocolatey orbs that stuck to the book moved up, meeting Dream's gaze, now far more interested in the future adventure rather than a guide he can't even follow. 

_"Ah- Uhm... No?"_ he gave a sheepish laugh, obviously surprised that the other was on the point of accepting. 

"So it's going to be the same story" he huffed and closed the book, not even bothering to look at the page number "When we come back... The house is going to be completely destroyed but at least this time we won't find corpses on the ground" he shook his head,rolling his eyes at the same time, hearing the sound of Dream's body fall from the couch onto the floor, then feeling something bump against his shoulder. 

_"You won't- trust me on this one- We are going to fix it... Please"_

"No- Dream... The last time we 'fixed things' was when I got drugged" he paused and sat up, looking at the other with watery eyes "I-... I don't want to pay the price for something you did again" 

_"Please! I'll fix it- I promise! I really do! I'll make it right- You don't have to worry about anything again...!"_ his voice had died out when he noticed that he was left alone in the room, feeling the bitter taste of loneliness on his lips and inside his throat once again. 

The room was silent once again, making him throw the book away and start packing his messenger bag with a few packets of dried meat, one full canteen and a few trading items, not a lot since he wanted to be as nimble as he could, even with the bag on his back.

With a last glance to the place where they put their weapons, quite a beautiful box they carved toghether, he grabbed his slightly shimmering turquoise blade, feeling its handle's warmth on his icy palm. Then, his eyes scanned the potion holder, deciding to grab two of the pinkish flasks, glowing a pleasant tint on the insides of his bag. He didn't have to worry about then breaking since they were made from enameled glass, after all. 

Inside the poorly lit room, the blade was maybe the only source of light, if not for the dormant fireplace, full of coals and remains of flammable materials, gathering quite an awful scent already but he couldn't be bothered. 

Instead, something else grabbed his attention- Inside the dormitory, where George vanished, cutting their conversation short, a quiet snore slipped under the closed door, notifying the blonde of his time to slither away, into the comfort of the darkness, something he started to unconsciously miss. 

_"I'm sorry George"_ he breathed and locked the door with a malformed key, a creation of his own _"I know you'll hate me so much"_ he furiously bit his lips and carefully walked off the patio, almost stumbling on the stairs he apparently forgot the place of. 

Even in the slate colored terrain, he could almost see the path towards the village, through the rich savanna, the dunes with their monstrous cactuses and creepers, often mistaken for the other one, another pasture, quite similar to the ones he had one of his residences in, then the shivering taiga, a biome he was no more than strangers with. 

The cyan blade was stuffed somewhere in a sheath along his left thigh, making him completely camouflaged in the unusual refuge. 

His stamina was incredible but the still tired muscles of his new body couldn't keep up with his necessities so he had to stop for a while, take a few deep breaths and drink a little bit of water, only to continue the same routine, finally nearing the sandy plains, mesmerized by them, as always. 

Something about the desolate landscape bough joy to his twisted brain, and he finally allowed himself to calm down and stroll around the area, still careful to not be shot down by one of the skeletons patrolling it. His lungs calmed down, but not completely- they were ready to pump as much oxygen as they could into his body if there was a need for that. 

Unless the steps that neared him didn't grow louder and louder as every second passed, making him turn around, terrorized by the deafening hissing that followed it. In an last attempt to not be blown up to pieces, his forearms were placed in front of his face, and luckyly, a skeleton that was actually aiming for his own head, shot the green creature before him. 

Cheering at the disk that laid on the ground, between the green goo and limbs of the explosive monster, he picked it up and stared at the empty middle part, barely containing his excitement. Looking around for something to hide it under proved a little bit harder, now that he was the one being shot down, but he decided on an odd looking cactus, almost in the shape of a circle. 

The only thing left to do now was walk as much as he could, until the sun replaced the moon, an unstoppable cycle from what he had noticed all these years, giving away his disguise as a simple, lost, mammal looking for cover. 

Thinking to himself in how many ways he will make the one behind the arson that killed the land and everything around it, suffer, he grinned mischievously, already twisting in excitement. 

_'So many fun ways!'_ he giggled to himself. 

He could tie them to a chair, just like they did to George, make the string so tight, they lose feeling in their hands and feet, squirming uncomfortably in the furniture piece. Then, he could try getting the needed information from them the old-fashioned way, maybe sweet talking the victim, or he could always resort to violence, the only thing beside the brunette that didn't seem to let him down. 

The moon began to shyly go down behind some forest of some sort, making his corneas water in the process, forcing him to squint to see anything at all, also leaving the whole mushy meadow in a thick darkness, earning an annoyed groan at his slightly wet boots from stepping into a puddle. 

Once the sight of the thin taiga they passed through showed itself over the horizon, he could let out a small smile, feeling his hands begin to shake a little more than usually, breath catching up, almost like he was ready to run a marathon.

 _"Oh Tommy"_ he leered and looked around for any guard that might be patrolling the outsides, or even the iron golem that needed to protect the town but it seemed too busy with a horde of zombies to even notice him snaking between the buildings. 

His hood covered the tuft of blonde hair on top of the mask, turning him into an even more threatening figure, already looking through every windows to see where the younger male had his bed in, remembering he didn't really have a place of his own and slept where he could, when he could, sometimes passing on days of sleep at a time. Maybe he got this routine from him but he didn't care about that at the moment since he caught glimpse of the other, sleeping soundly in a petite house, somewhere by the end of the village, near the path that lead to Zak's farm.

Dream circled the house like a hungry lion, looking for any kind of opening so he could jump inside and do whatever he pleased with the sleeping traitor, but gave up since the house didn't seem to have windows thay could open. The door was the only thing left to try and much to his surprise, it clicked open, swinging slightly agape.

It was probably why he was alone in the house- It was one of those abandoned buildings that no one used anymore because the four or five story houses seemed better than to fill the entire area in an abundance of homes, cramping over ten of them into a single cell, an 'obvious' answer to the problem.

With a swift movement he got in and paid close attention to the objects sprawled on the ground, careful to not knock over the dirty shovel by the opening, since it could alert both the golem and the other blonde, still in a deep slumber. Just as fast as he opened it, the room clicked shut, now the 'lion' circling its so called 'prey' hungrily for revenge.

Deciding to not stagnate the inevitable for much longer, he placed one hand on top of Tommy's mouth, straddling him, using his knees to hold down his arms. Until he had started to wake up, the cold blade was already close to his neck, next to one of the most important arteries in the body, already slicing at the sensitive skin.

 _"Tommy, my friend... Look"_ he smiled _"You know I'm usually not the one to hold grudges, but... "_ he whispered and gave a sharp-toothed grin, something he grew quite used to. 

Once noticing his situation, the other began to squirm, move around and try to get out of his grasp, but to no avail- his muscles refused to work as he wished them to. 

_"But you made me really really mad, you know that?"_ he pouted childishly when he felt his hand get wetted by the other, now gagging at the bitter taste of his skin _"Yeah I forgot to mention that I love the sage bushes around here... Very useful, don't you think so?"_

The pressure he put on the arms grew stronger and stonger as his captive seemed to oppose resistance, feeling more alive than ever. 

_"Anyways- Let's cut the chit-chat... You know why I'm here"_ he furrowed his eyebrows under the mask _"Do you know something about the zone right before the birch forests? Yeah, the meadows and that giant oak tree we used to hang around? Why the fuck did you burn it?"_ the blade was pressed deeper on the already bruising neck. 

Tommy shook his head. 

_"You didn't?"_

Another shake. 

_"Oh well... What kind of sick animal would kill the animals in the fenced areas... Oh yeah I forgot- An animal just like you"_

The small coal called 'annoyance' that rolled inside Dream aimlessly, somehow getting near to a bundle of crunched up paper and wool, called 'impatience' seemed more threatening than his presence altogether. 

_"You have one chance to tell me who did this"_ he muttered _"If you make any sound other than a whisper, I'm taking your liver and kidneys and I'm running away... That's a promise"_ as monotone as he was right now, he slowly raised his hand from Tommy's mouth, smiling at the silence. 

"Dream- Please Dream you know I would never do this-" 

_"Speak the fuck quieter"_ he slapped his cheek and grimaced at the ticklish sensation in his palm. _"Get your shit toghether and tell me who did this or I'll get a new award for a killing spree"_

"It was Wilbur! Wilbur burned it- He also said to slaughter the animals since he saw George feed the- You have to believe me- I'm saying... the... truth?" his voice died out when he noticed the deranged smile on his face. 

_"Last words?"_

"No wait-" 

_"Wilbur didn't go anywhere"_ he squinted even though it couldn't ever be possible _"And he was at the bakery with Nikki, so..."_ he chuckled _"You're lying to me"_

Deciding to accept his fate, Tommy looked at the two dots that served as the eyes for the mask, kindly enough, a little lower than the actual position of his green orbs, now perfectly suited to see in the dark. 

"So what...? Are you going to kill me? Just like you killed Sapnap? Techno? Even Bad?" he grinned but it wasn't for a long duration as the sharp pain in his abdomen made him shut up instantly, even more, shriek into the covers, looking for anything that could apply pressure to the wound. 

_"You deserve worse than them- They had a fast death but for you? I think I'll leave you to bleed out... you've earned it after your so called 'acts of charity'."_

"I knew I made a big mistake when I met you that day" he chocked on some blood that gushed between his lips "I still remember it... Do you?" 

Dream gave a light snicker and rubbed his cheeks from the sweat that dripped on them _"I do... Who would've thought that the starving kid would turn out so annoying... If I knew I would've left you to be eaten by wolves."_

"That 'starving kid' was your friend for a long time... Or until you decided to go ape shit on the others and start that collection of yours, what did you call it again? Memory? Yeah right, you're a criminal" he grinned loudly, getting immediately shut down by another slap on his opposite cheek, twice the pain of the one before. 

_"I did what was right"_ he mumbled. 

**"You're a criminal, Dream... No one and nothing can wipe that off your hands"** he smiled and closed his eyes. 

Once the tension against his knees grew weaker and weaker, he sat up and gave a final glance to the body before sitting on the bed and sticking the sharp blade in the soft flesh of his abdomen, making a cut that connected to the stab wound, gaining easy access to the internal organs. 

_"I promised something to your liver and kidneys"_ he shrugged and rummaged under the stomach, a little pleased that the body was warm and it warmed up with own hands, even though he got stained almost to his elbows. 

Suddenly, he realized that the sun had already began to get up and what he was going to do would take more than half an hour maybe, even if he hurried up, twenty minutes were too little to finish the entire job, so he gave up and sat up, cleaning the blade on the mattress. 

_"I'm keeping my promise Tommy"_ he smiled and slithered on the path to Zak's house, already by the door when he noticed another male, slightly shorter than him from what he looked like from that distance, wearing a green shirt and some backpack of sorts. 

Through the city roared a heartbreaking cry, loud enough that everyone was awake the next moment, already going out to inspect what happened and check if there was another victim to the 'slaughter'. 

He gave a small pout when he noticed everyone seemed relived after they got the news that no organs have been ripped out, or badly damaged, so there was a high possibility of him respawning somewhere around the town, in an hour or so. 

Once his gaze was turned back to the spruce door before him, he gave a few knocks before it opened, showing a very sleepy, yet confused Zak, staring at his bloody arms. 

"Oh God!" 

_"Don't worry- It's not mine"_

"Are you okay?- Who did you fight with-...? " 

His bloody hands gripped the tanned male's shoulder as he sighed deeply, giving an apologetic look already 

_"I have never been here okay? Today... you haven't seen me and If they ask what happened? You never saw me and worked all morning on the farm okay?"_ he smiled and handed him a bag filled with something that produced sounds similar to glass. 

"What is this?" 

_"Something I've been meaning to give you for a long time"_ he smiled tiredly and waved shortly, vanishing from the flat terrain, where he could be easily spotted, into a nearby forest, already beginning his journey back home. 

The terrain was the same, journey uneventful until he got to the sandy area, right when the sun scorched the worse, signaling that it's midday, or somewhere near that. 

The cactus that hid the disc between its juicy pulp offered him a thin shade, trying its best while the blonde uncovered the area, finally finding the desired object, staring at it once again. 

He could usually tell which one of them it was by the patterns on the vinyl, but this one seemed too intricate for him to figure out on his own, so he wouldn't need to use his jukebox to see what label to put on it, or maybe be the first one to name a melody, who knew. 

After what felt like hours, he began to see the house appear before his eyes, smiling weakly at the sight. 

_"Home sweet ho-"_

Only then he noticed George pointing his bow at him, aiming straight for his head. Maybe now he regretted that he taught him how to shoot the bow since he was mediocre at sword fighting, or anything that included using his fists and agility to fight. 

He raised his hands and gave a confused laugh. 

_"George-! It's... It's Dream- You can put the bow down-"_

"Where did you go" his striking eyes didn't leave his face for one moment, starting to almost feel naked under the attentive gaze. 

_"I had to take care of something in the vil-"_

"What did you take care of" 

The satisfying sound of an arrow being pulled back was heard, again, maybe too late to notice the fully tensioned arrow staring at him, wanting to eat him up completely. 

_"I talked to someone..."_

"You don't go to talk with someone and come back covered in blood and, by how I know you? You didn't just talk, and I know that for a fact" 

_"I-I swear!"_

"Tell me what you did or I shoot" he threatened, feeling his fingers begin hurting for holding the shaft back for so long "Now!" he yelled and closed one of his eyes, already readying himself for the recoil of the bow. 

_"I took care of it"_

"Of what" George let the bow down, confused. 

_"Of the arsonist"_ Dream gave a cheeky smile _"He won't bother us anymore"_

"You didn't kill him... did you?" 

_"No. He will respawn if the wounds are too much. I made sure of that"_ He lied, smiling as he normally would, showing the pointy part of his sharp teeth. 

"Sure... Go wash your hands" the brunette begrudgingly put the weapon away, watching the other near the shore of the river, staining the grains of sand with a pinkish water and coagualted mass from where the sleeves of the hoodie had absorbed it. 

Something didn't sit right with him and he would have to find out some way of another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things have taken an unexpected turn?
> 
> Does George not trust Dream anymore? Did something make his trust shatter? Could it be that he read between the lines and saw the lie? 
> 
> Who found Tommy's corpse? A friend perhaps? 
> 
> No one knows what to do anymore... It surely gets desperate here! 
> 
> Stay tuned for more of their adventures.


	15. Unobtrused Inquisition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The two boys seem to start getting along again, but suddenly another problem reveals itself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It gets a little violent at the end so if you're not okay with it, you can skip over the last part! <3
> 
> I hope everyone is doing amazing during this crazy times.
> 
> !! This is not proof read so mistakes might arise, I apologize in advance for them. :')

The week that followed the incident was uneventful. 

Words spoken between the two males were short and never trailed off into a possible conversation, being strictly necessary. The long hours they used to talk about anything at all seemed such golden memories to both of them, but they knew they'd eventually have to start talking to each other again. 

One particular morning, Dream was the first one to start speaking. 

_"Hey"_

He was met by silence from the other, just now turning a page in his book, the same plum colored one with yellow pages. 

_"Are you mad at me"_

"What do you think" finally, the muddy eyes he liked moved to look at him, obviously carrying the weight of poorly slept nights. 

_"I'm sorry... Okay? I've apologized at least a dozen times by now- What do you want me to do? I don't know how to make you talk to me anymore... Please! Please talk to me!"_ he articulated aggressively, eventually laying on the couch since he didn't recieve an answer from the brunette. 

_"I know I fucked up! I know I shouldn't have gone without you... Please? George? I'm sorry, I really am..."_ he bit his lips, annoyed by the fact that he was being ignored once again, even more bothered by the sound of another page being turned. 

Eventually, he turned his back to George and cuddled one of the pillows that laid on the couch, fed up with talking alone, something he used to do until no more than three? four? maybe four months ago when he met the easily angered male, now reading. 

_"Okay..."_ he sat up and kneeled in front of George, placing his hand to cover the lines of the book, the pictures and the page's number _"Tell me please... How can I make it right? Please- Please! I'm begging you... What can I do to make you talk to me again?"_ again, the most expressive piece on his face, also the only one visible, exposed the emotion that's been haunting him for the past days- desperation, by shaking lightly, even though his teeth aggressively nibbled on it. 

Silence. 

"Calm down first of all" he sighed and put the book away, placing one of his warm hands on the freckled cheek of the blonde, giving a small pat "Start by telling me who you think it was, okay?" 

Dream nodded and hiccuped right when his mouth opened, earning the first giggle out of both of them for the agonizingly slow week. 

_"O-Okay..."_ he crossed his legs and set his hand in his lap, enjoying the tender sensation of being petted, even if he looked stupid _"Tommy... He hates my guts, but we've actually been friends- for a short period of time, though"_ he smiled weakly, earning himself the full attention of the other. 

"So what did you do?" his calm tone forced the blonde into calming down, closing his eyes and eventually getting his lip to stop trembling. 

_"I... I wanted to kill him"_ he muttered, shamefully _"He hurt you-! I don't want anyone to hurt you... He..He had to pay for what he did"_

"That's not-" 

_"Please listen to me George! I-I...uhm- I care about you and I don't want some childish teenager that holds grudges, going around here and threatening you"_

"I can take care of myself okay, Dream? I promise" 

_"I know- But I worry so much and it's- ugh I hate worrying so much over you"_ he furrowed his brows and stared into his lap, confused over his own emotions. 

"I worry for you too-" 

_"No! George- Look.."_ his neck moved and the whiteish circle stared at the brunette again _"I was so angry and so... I was hurt- I went after him and I wanted to make him suffer..! All I could think about is how much I want to strangle him and kick him and make him feel sorry for what he did-"_

The ramble was stopped by another warm hand, placed on his other cheek, showing him the comfort he's been longing for so long. 

It felt so nice to be held, that his emerald eyes watered, feeling a singular tear roll down, stopped by the corner of his lips. 

"Come here" he opened his arms and felt the considerably bigger male sit in his lap, his blonde locks tickling the sides of his neck and forehead. "Calm down... Okay? I'm here and I'm safe" he gave a short peck to the forehead of the now shivering male, placing his arms around his torso, feeling him do the same to his back. 

_"Okay... It's okay... You're safe"_ his head was burrowed deeply into the crook of George's neck that carried a sweet scent, of dirt and fresh air but it also smelled like one of those days you spend outside, the late autumn days, right when the trees are naked of their leaves and the first few snowflakes are falling. 

He refused to admit it, but the blonde's hands gripped him a little tighter than usual, almost like he was scared of him disappearing, just like the time he ran after him over the biomes, just so that they didn't lose each other. 

"Do you want to talk another time about this?" he felt the other shake his head "Okay then... Tell me what you want me to know" he whispered softly, resting his back against the couch. 

Suddenly, Dream pulled back, using his icy hands to tenderly grasp George's cheeks _"You deserve to know everything but I dont know how... I-"_ he allowed himself to swallow before starting to say what might be the end of him _"I know how to kill someone... L-Like kill them for good- So that they don't respawn... Ever again"_

The warm hand on his back urged him go continue his sentence, feeling at a loss of words for the first time in a few good months. What happened at the moment felt weirdly endearing. 

He was being cradled like the unstable criminal that he was, by the one he got to call victim not until long ago, in a house he helped said victim build, decorate and make into a home with all their scribbles, paintings and personal objects thrown around carelessly. 

The fact that an occasional 'Easy there', or the classic 'It's okay' always left the brunette's mouth, wanting to make him stop shaking didn't help his situation much either, feeling even fatter tears start flowing over the already wetted skin, earning a sob, one of the most pitiful sounds that came out of his mouth. 

"You can stop now" George spoke softly, continuing to rub patters on the crying male's back- circles, squares, triangles and even polygons with more sides, five, six, even eight. 

_"No...!"_ his nose was absolutely stuffed _"You have to know what I've done- but I can't bring myself to tell you"_

The silence was broke only by whimpers and sighs from the blonde that seemed to calm down, not much, but it was a start. 

_"You'll hate me"_ Dream wailed and gripped the warm, blueish material of the other's shirt, even harder than before if it was possible _"A-And I don't want you to hate me... You've only been kind to me... And I was an asshole- and I made you mad and then I left and you were scared I might have died-"_

"That happened a long time ago" 

_"A week? A week is a long time ago? How can you be so calm and so forgiving and... I don't- Ugh! I don't deserve your forgiveness"_

"Oh Dream please don't start-" 

_"I've been such a nasty person towards you and you have to admit it"_ his chin now rested on top of George's shoulder, eyes closed. 

"Yeah you've been shitty sometimes-" George chuckled and gave a weak smile "But I think there are way more times you've been nice to me rather than an ass... You taught me how to shoot the bow-" 

_"And you decided to point it at me..."_ he muttered, in a tone so quiet and desolate that you'd think every little spark of hope had stopped and he was left alone. 

"Dream- you have to understand that I was furious that day, I could barely look at your face without wanting to beat the shit out of you-" he chuckled "-Even though I knew you could put me down in a moment" 

_"You have all the rights to be mad at me"_

"You don't even know... This week has been hell for me- And by the way I got to know you, it's been even worse for you" he gave another tender kiss to his temples, feeling the blonde finally relax, his wheezy breathing gaining a slow pace. 

_"Mhmm"_ he hummed _"You ignored me all week- You know I can't stand it-!"_ he gasped _"You did it on purpose!"_ he pulled back and stared through the mask at the brunette's eyes. 

"I did" 

_"Meanie"_ the corners of his mouth dug down, the lower lip sliding up, ending in an aggresive pout _"You watched me try to talk to you... and you didn't respond- Do you even have an idea of how frustrating that is? It felt like I was alone in this house- It's like I was talking to the walls but even those would respond more than you did-"_

"I know" he smiled smugly. "This was the only way you could really feel how I felt then- And if we are confessing things right now... I'd like you to know how scared I was to see you covered in blood that it's not even yours- Well at first I didn't know that, so, I assumed you got mangled by something... And there you were, walking completely fine, like you just did one of the greatest things in the world" 

_"Which I did!"_

"Oh shut up Dream-" 

_"Never. "_ he giggled and pushed George down, now both of them laying on the floor, staring at each other's dumb smiles. 

Now, a comfortable silence washed over the two and all they did was smile and stare each other down, again, the same contest of not blinking happening, no soul bothering to keep evidence of who lost the most and who would be called a winner at the end. 

_"Are we about to kiss right now?"_ Dream cackled, earning a smack on his freckled cheek, this resulting him in wheezing like a teapot ready to be used, almost hitting his head on the wooden frame of the couch if the brunette hadn't been able to be his palm between it and his skull, which he proved most of the times to lack brains. 

"Stop- Dream! You'll hit your head-" even though he tried to keep a serious face, he busted into a laughing fit, soon joining the other, laughing at the horrendous sounds he could produce.

A few moments of pure bliss passed 

Suddenly, Dream stopped and shuffled for something in the messenger bag, thrown on the floor next to them, since the day he came back. 

They didn't dare touch it. 

_"Wait, George!"_

"What are you doing-?" 

_"Look-"_ he pulled out of it a tattered piece of paper, carrying some blotches of color, some inscriptions in the language he didn't know how to read, a few 'X's scattered around the surface and two dots in the middle of it, a blue one and a bright lime one, mushing into a light turquoise. 

"How- Where did you get that from" 

_"The village-"_

"What does it do" 

_"It's a map, obviously"_

"You say?" he sarcastically retorted, rolling his eyes. 

_"You see these marks on it?"_

"They are bright red how can I not-" 

_"These are either monuments, buried treasures or temples"_ he explained and pointed to each respectively. 

"That doesnt really look like the zone around us" he pointed to one of the furthest destination on the map, dormant over a blue area. 

_"That's an ocean monument"_ he read the label under it _"It says right there-"_

"I can't read that" he deadpanned, earning a copious chuckle from the other, lovingly sticking out his tongue at him. 

_"You suck."_

"What do the other ones say? And what is written under those circles?" he pointed to the center of the map. 

_"That is a desert temple-"_ his finger moved to the yellowish area, surrounded by a saturated orange _"-I think this is an abandoned Nether portal-"_ again, he pointed to the 'X' nearest to them _"-And these circles are us- George and Dream"_ he spoke, glancing at the other's confused expression _"The letters are overlapping but you can see which is which-"_

"How does it know that-" 

_"It's a map- That's what it does"_

"No- How does it know our names?" George rephrased his question but grew silent when he noticed Dream starring attentively at the map with a dark greenish and a red dot moving along it's surface, seemingly gliding towards them. 

_"Tommy?"_ they both looked up, glanced one at the other, visibly confused, since a few moments after, the name of the other became visible: 

"Tubbo?" 

_"Ugh- Why does he have to bring Tubbo everywhere"_ Dream rolled his eyes under the mask, clearly annoyed by the fact that the dots seemed to catch speed once they reached the dead green stain, the savanna precisely. 

"Who is-" 

_"Grab your bow. **Now**."_ He demanded, already rummaging through the carved box, accidentally cutting his hand in one of the knives but he didn't care about that now, completely ignoring the sensation. 

George gulped and picked the weapon off it's place on the wall, readying his quiver and checking the tips and the feathers of each arrow, making sure they were all facing correctly in the holder. Only when he was done, he dared stare at the blonde, now swiftly sharpening the edge of a generous, diamond sword, swirling with a purpurish glow. He observed, amazed, but also confused as to why he didn't hold it in the proper way, his hands avoiding to go near the blade. 

Dream answered his unspoken question, after feeling his gaze on him. 

_"Fire aspect"_ his answer was short _"I touch the blade and my hand is gone"_ he smiled warmly and sat up, giving one last look to the map, now somewhere on the couch, long forgotten.

"G-Got it" 

The brunette was still shocked at the sudden need to arm up, but he didn't complain as the other seemed far more prepared than him, way calmer and obviously more skilled with the sword he was carrying. 

_"Don't shoot if I go in the front but always be ready with an arrow to back me up- It's important I don't die- Protect me with your life"_ he grabbed the two flasks with the same pink, viscous liquid inside, the ones he didn't use in his trip to the village and shoved them in the front pocket of his hoodie, covered in a cloth of some sort so they didn't give themselves out. 

It definitely felt weird that he didn't have his bag on his back, to have some extra weight he could use to balance himself when striking but he saw no need to get it since they'd only go a few hundred blocks away from the house. 

_"Tommy wears a white shirt and is taller than Tubbo- You'll spot him easily- And don't listen to a word he says... He does anything to get it his way"_

"Uh-" 

_"And don't let his words get to you- He also wants that"_

"Yeah... Okay I got it- I'm not that stupid-" 

_"You're my best shot at solving this so I want to make sure you don't mess up, okay?"_

"Okay" 

With one glance at the map, a traitor on their side, exposing the two boys' location, he went out the door and chucked George the key, ushering him to lock the door since it's harder to get it if it's sealed shut. 

Then, he caught sight of the two, seemingly mirroring the weird duo. 

Tommy held a long sword of something grayish in his hand, almost the size of his whole arm, sparkling in the same bland magenta gaze he grew quite tired of smelling and seeing everyday. Then, following him, a few steps backwards, was the so called Tubbo, much shorter than the other blonde, carrying a crossbow, already loaded, apparently holding three bolts at the same time, carrying the exact same glow, but he couldn't be sure from this distance. 

Dream peered at the two and walked in the front, hands widely outstretched, leering and whistling, almost like he had been waiting his whole life for the moment. 

_"Well well well-!"_ he grinned widely, showing his sharp teeth _"Tommy! Tubbo! Welcome... Welcome! Make yourselves feel at home"_

"You disgust me" came from the other male, now clearly the same height as Dream. 

Even if George remained far behind him, observing Tubbo do the same, he watched him carefully hold the cross bow just a little bit towards the blonde on his side, earning a roll of his eyes and him getting ready to shoot. 

_"Well... Isn't it rude that you're already pointing your gun at me?"_ he guffawed, stopping just a few feet in front of Tommy. 

"You know why we're here" 

_"I have no idea"_ he smiled innocently, crossing his arms behind his back.

"You monster!" he yelled "You come and stab me when I sleep and I'm still the rude one...? You trampled our farmlands and killed the iron golem!" 

_"I did no such thing"_ he shook his head, slowly _"In fact, you were my target from the start"_

George's expression remained a neutral one, his bow pointed at the archer, now making eye contact for a few seconds while he changed the arrow since he disliked this particular one. 

This was all that Tubbo needed. 

A distraction from Tommy and a few seconds of broken eye contact from the brunette to take his shot, or at least one of them since he had a 'Multishot' crossbow, perfectly into Dream's abdomen. The other two bolts vanished into thin air as all of them stared one at another. 

Following this, was his own shot, the arrow perfectly striking the crossbower in his chest, making him crumble to the ground, choking on his own spit and blood. 

Compared to him, Dream was doing much much better, already pushing the bolt through the thin skin on his back to break it's tip off and pull it out, all in the span of a few agonizing seconds. 

The few moments in which everyone unraveled seemed to pass so slow, that he could count every speck of dust that went by his eyes, lightened brightly by the midday sun. 

"Tommy!" 

The aforementioned turned towards the skilled bower, ready to spill a little of his thoughts, maybe getting him to stop pulling back the arrow that matched the one in his friend's chest, now laying on the ground while curled in a ball. 

"I will shoot again if you do not retreat right now" his right eye closed, indicating the few seconds before another successful shot. 

He was still standing proudly before the wounded, masked male. 

"Five. Four. Three-" he counted. 

"Okay-! OKAY" he took a few steps backwards, running to the stiff brunette on the ground, the red feathers of the arrow visible from far away. 

Silence once again. 

"Nice shot" Dream cackled and waved, pleased. 

"You're bleeding" he got closer to his own blonde, staring at the red material of his hoodie with pity. 

_"It's with two sides"_ he twirled once, showing an exactly identical blotch on his back _"Fancy huh?"_

"You're so dumb-" he giggled and turned to Tommy, expression instantly going blank. 

"You killed him! You monster! You're the same breed! Criminals!" he held the corpse close to his chest, rubbing his arm. 

"We both know he would have been alive if he didn't take the shot" he shrugged, lightly "Now, get out of here or I'll imagine your head is a fat apple" 

"Go ahead! Shoot me- Kill me if you please! Dream will gut me after that... Like a fucking salmon... He'll gut me and leave my organs in the shape of a smile- I'm sure he will! That's what he always does to his victims" 

George had opened his mouth to begin counting but there was no need to since Tommy hastily picked up the crossbow and loaded it with an arrow from the other corpse, pointing it towards his head. With one last look to the corpse next to him, he pulled the mechanism and all three bolts thrusted into the bones of his face, deforming them and utterly killing him. 

"Will he be okay" he asked, not really interested in the answer since he could get his words out of his head. 

He had been oddly specific with the way Dream acts, or is supposed to act by what he had said. 

_"Yeah... Don't touch their bodies and they'll respawn at the village"_

"I'll take my arrow back though- Can I use the ones from his crossbow?" 

_"Yeah- They should be a little shorter but it's fine. They'll glide better since they have rubber feathers"_

The brunette didn't look at the corpses and grabbed both the weapon and it's ammunition, sliding it into his own quiver while inspecting the mechanism and everything that got put toghether into the deadly weapon. 

"He didn't have many bolts" he neared Dream, handing him the object "What's up with it? It shoots three things" he spoke, looking at it at the same time with the other. 

_"Multishot"_ he answered again _"It makes two other spectre arrows, but I assure you, they are real if they hit you, and if not, they dissappear as if they never existed"_ he shrugged, grimacing when he tried to take a step.

"Dream?" 

"Tommy was kind of specific, wasn't he?" 

"He's a weirdo-" he tried to brush the thought off. 

"Tell me the truth- What was he talking about? Gutting him? His organs and that smiley face? Is it true?" 

The blonde stuffed his hands deeply into his front pocket, feeling the instant health potion, deciding to make good use of it. Still without answering, he chugged half of the recipient, gagging at the awful taste. 

"Talk to me!" George demanded.

 _"What do you want me to say, huh?"_ he threw the potion on the ground, annoyed _"Oh yes George! I've been murdering people all my life until I met you? I took their hearts and sometimes even ate from their corpses? I also received a weird joy when I made shapes with their intestines and left them for the town's people to discover the next day"_ he clasped his hands and rose them next to his face, almost like he was taunting the other. _"Yes George! Everything that he said was true and I just might gut him, just because!"_

His knees gave up on him, as he fell to the ground, gripping at the still aching muscles covering his stomach. Even if they were healthy now, they hurted like the arrow was still stuck in the flesh, aching every time he twisted more than allowed to. 

"Tell me one more thing" 

_"What"_

"Did you ever think of killing me? Truthfully." he gave a small nod, waiting for the answer. 

_"Before we went to the town, yeah... But then I changed my mind"_

"So you've used me" 

_"No- Wait- George? George!"_ he bit his lips again, for the hundredth time today, making it bleed once again. 

In a last attempt to make the other stop, he put the bolt he had received once with the crossbow in it, pointing it at the brunette. 

_"Don't go... Please- Let me explain- I-I swear I didn't use you... George I care about you, please"_ he desperately wiped his wet cheeks, eyes never leaving him. 

"Are you sure?" he turned around, face blank. 

_"Yes! Please, I'm begging you... Give me... Two minutes! That's all I need"_

He turned around, allowing him to speak freely. 

"You have up to five minutes, and if I don't get the whole story, I'm leaving and I won't talk to you ever again" he firmly stated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Problems in paradise? Most likely.
> 
> Dream is given only one chance to explain himself, what he says decides his fate... Will he say the right things and keep his sturdy friendship or will he mess it up? 
> 
> Stay tuned for more of their adventures, some with the outer world and some with theirs own feelings.
> 
> ________________
> 
> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 6000+ READS YOU GUYS ARE AMAZING <3 ILYSM :')))
> 
> Honesty, this is maybe one of the best emotional roller-coasters in the book, in the longest chapter of the book, at somewhere 4.6k words ;_;
> 
> Also sorry again for the long wait! I took my time with this since I wanted it to be good. <3
> 
> As always, thank you guys so much for reading it, take care everyone and I wish the best for you and your family! <3


	16. Forlorn Sundery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The situation really couldn't have gotten worse for the two males... Or could it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUYS SKNDOSJSOD HOW ARE WE AT 7K READS- THANK YOU SO MUCH <3 :"D

Dream's eyes never seemed to leave the figure standing proudly, a few feet away from him, either looking at his blank eyes, the pitiful copy of a smile he wore, or the patch of reddened material on his shirt from when he helped him. 

Maybe the three hundred seconds he received weren't enough but he had to make them enough. 

The first one hundred forty-five seconds were used to unblock his brain and finally close his mouth after the shock. Then, the five seconds that followed them were utilized to swallow dryly, almost feeling himself choke at the disgusting, metallic taste in his mouth. 

Maybe the fifty seconds he wasted on sitting up weren't worth for the probability of George leaving him forever, but he couldn't get them back, even if it was the last thing he wanted right now. And just maybe, the same amount of seconds he had just used to open his mouth and say one of the dumbest things ever, wasn't worth it either. 

_"They've treated me like their doormat! I was put to work and they made fun of me! I was the youngest and they took advantage of me!"_ he explained, gripping his hair, grimacing at the burning around his scalp _"I couldn't take it anymore-! Please- Please... You have to believe me... I didn't want this- I don't even know how I found out but I know it- I know I'm a criminal--but please- don't leave me, George"_ his whole body shook so violently, it seemed like one of the greatest earthquakes took place that exact same moment. 

"You're right" he nodded and put the bow around his chest, making sure to not strangle himself in the process "I can't allow you to make me your doormat" the warmth of his tone seemed to dissappear into the frigid atmosphere and he didn't leave any emotion to show on his face, other than disgust. 

_"W-What...?"_ He took a step, closing the distance between him and the brunette, but was immediately pushed on the ground by the same hands he thought of as skilled and talented in pottery. 

"Stay low" he demanded "Someone like you- A criminal, as you admitted, shouldn't be allowed to live freely like that- And decide who dies and who lives, on top of that!" his finger was pointed at the white circle rather than his face, wearing a deranged grin. 

_"Huh? Wait- George..?"_

"Now I know why you hide behind that mask" he spoke calmly "You hide from yourself- You're not scared of the outer world! You just proved that to me! But what you're scared of... No- You're terrified of... Is, yourself--you don't like what you've become... Or better said, what you've been for this long" finally, he looked away, breaking the last hope Dream had for himself to patch things up. 

For the second time, the blonde stood up and gripped the tender muscles on his abdomen like there was no tomorrow. 

_"George! You said you'd let me explain-!"_

"Sorry to disappoint but.. your time is up" he smiled, coldly. 

_"Listen to me! For once! This one time, the last time you'll hear from me ever again! At least let me be at peace knowing I told you everything!"_ his eyes began to water at the words he had just said. 

"No- Dream- I won't be the toy you play around with- Okay, I understand you had your fun for a few months, but the fact that you got attached is a _you_ problem" his arms crossed over his chest as he huffed tiredly, refusing to make any sort of eye contact with the faceless person before him. 

_"Don't lie to yourself- You also got attached! It's impossible not to! How do you stand by someone for that long time and not get attached- What are you? Soulless? I know you aren't- I know you... I know you George..."_ he trailed off and gripped the material of his pants, lip trembling aggressively, threatening to let the tears finally drop over his cheeks into a voluminous waterfall. 

George shook his head "You think that you know me- You pretend that you know! You always did- You were so superficial all the time! I know you were- But you were such a good liar- And I was such a stupid guy... And it so happened that you stumbled upon me" 

_"I-..."_ letters refused to be remembered and he couldn't form a single word for a few moments, time in which the tension only grew thicker and thicker. 

"That's right... You can't say anything because it's true" he nodded, briefly "You know it's true- You know what's happening inside your head but I don't... And I think that I don't want to know that anymore. 

_"That's not true... I-I didn't lie to you... Well I did lie- But only at first! I saw you like one of my possible victims and I wanted to earn your trust but I couldn't bring myself to kill you-"_ he cried and rubbed his cheeks _"Please- I'm begging you to listen to me for a few more moments... That's all I'm asking for... Please!"_

"What the hell is there left to explain Dream-" his muddy eyes rolled around once more as he stared at the pasture around them, dissatisfied. 

_"You were so clueless and so innocent and so daring and confident that you reminded me of myself- When I looked at you I saw myself and I couldn't- I didn't... I was scared to hurt you at first... I was so confused over my own feelings--I didn't know whether I wanted to stay by your side for a little longer or just go back to my house and leave you alone forever!"_

"Maybe you should have chosen the second optio-" 

_"But I didn't! I liked your smile and the way that your face lighted up when I told you about my trips and the things I know... I liked when you followed my instructions and did things yourself."_ he smiled sadly and glanced up to try and make eye contact with the other _"I loved it when you made such pretty things and read to me some of the nights when I couldn't sleep. I liked that you gave me freedom and you allowed me to come and go when I wanted- I like that you still believed in me after the trip to the town, you should have realized that something was wrong... But you just joked and trusted me."_

"Yeah! How foolish of me to be so kind to someone that didn't deserve it, afterall." 

_"Yeah I know! I KNOW!"_ he cried _"I know I don't deserve your kindness and I clearly didn't deserve your forgiveness and pity- I'm not worth enough to stand by your side--You're amazing and such a good person and I really have no idea how you ended up with me"_

"Maybe if you didn't hide all this information from me at the start" he gave another eye-roll at him "Maybe I would have made the right choice and stay the fuck away from you since I met you" he picked off his arrow from Tubbo's chest, placing it into the quiver once done with cleaning the tip. "And maybe- Just maybe... You wouldn't be on the ground, crying over someone that doesn't even know who you are anymore from all the lies you puked all over"

Dream didn't dare say anything more, waiting for the words he was so terrified of, to escape the brunette's mouth and strangle him on the spot. 

"Get out Dream" he closed his eyes and grasped the side of his bow just a little tighter "Get your things from the chests and leave- I don't want to see your face... Or better said mask, for the rest of my life" his whole body twisted in a weird sorrow and he could feel his lungs begging to open up again, to take in some much needed oxigen and filter it to his brain. 

_"I-I see"_ he could hear the metallic clanking of his boots against each other and a small groan from when he finally stood up, losing his balance by the few uncertain steps that followed it. 

"Don't show yourself around this place or I'll shoot you on sight" this time, their eyes met and they both knew it, even if George's were masked by his glasses and Dream's by both his hood that had fallen over his head when he got pushed down and the circular mask with a faint lime stain in one of the lower sides from the grass he fell onto. 

_"Okay- Erm-"_

"Don't say anything" he rose his palm, in a pacifying manner, while his other firmly squeezed the elastic rope of the bow. 

_"I'm sorry-"_ the blonde mumbled after he picked off the crossbow off the ground, already walking back to the house he used to share with George, thinking about the items he had to pick up- items which he had bought over the course of a few weeks. 

"Shut up- You should have been sorry the second day you saw my face" the irritation he pushed out of his body a few minutes ago seemed to crawl back inside of his already exhausted body and it seemed like he let his emotion flows through "You shouldn't have been right now before me- You should have been at your own house- You should have left me alone! You made me look so stupid and dumb a-and-" his eyes teared up. 

One of his hands reached for the glasses, smashing them on the ground, stepping on them and earning the satisfying crunch of the lenses being shattered into millions of pieces. 

"I should have never made the mistake of agreeing to go with you-" he bit his lips in frustration, his gaze now fixed onto the iron reinforcements on his own boots. "I should- I... You're horrible--I hope you know that- But not only for ruining a part of my life... But also for ruining the lives of so many people" 

Something Dream had not expected to hear today was an agonizing sob from the brunette, holding so tightly on the weapon around his torso that he was afraid it might snap in halves. 

"I hate you! I hate you so much!" he cried, not even bothering to look up "You're a monster- Just as Tommy said... Maybe I'll agree with him" he sniffed but couldn't stop the tears that kept flowing down his cheeks. 

Dream maybe hadn't expected himself to take a few steps towards the other and look at him tenderly, his own glossy eyes fixed on his shaking shoulders. 

With hesitation, his cold hands reached for George's warm ones and he could feel the tension on the bow get released. 

"Don't touch me- You're going to hu-" 

_"I'm not going to hurt you"_

"You are!" he choked back a sob "You always did- I was always a joke to you!... You treated me like your punching bag- You gave me poisonous food and scared me so many times by shooting after me- Even when I told you it wasn't funny... You're an asshole." he pulled his hands back. 

_"I'm sorry-"_

"No Dream... You can't fix this with a sorry that I don't even know whether you mean or not" he pushed the other away "Leave. Now." he demanded and continued to wipe at his already red skin, both on cheeks and neck. 

_"Ugh... "_ he raised his hands up, like he accepted defeat. 

Deafening silence for a few moments. 

"Kill me in my sleep" 

_"What the hell are you talking about-"_ it was now Dream's time to get annoyed. _"I'm not going to-"_

"So at least it won't hurt, you know?" he shrugged and gave him a last chance to look at his eyes before finally facing the opposite direction. 

_"I already said I'm not going to-"_ his greenish eyes moved to the broken frames and smashed glass of the accessory he had been 'hunting' until now, only to realize that he didn't care about them anymore.

"I don't know--I really can't be sure anymore with you... I mean you've lied to me my whole existence so I don't see why I would put faith in your words once again-" 

_"I've changed! Can't you see? Are you blind? I changed so much for you! I didn't- I- You made me a better person because I wanted to not disappoint you... And-"_

"And you still did, yeah, I get it" he shrugged again, crossing his hands over his chest, not even wanting to glance at the other "Now- Get away from me... And stay away from me for real this time or I'll keep my word... Something you should learn to do too" 

_"Okay- okay... Okay. If it makes you feel better-"_

He got interrupted by George's stern tone: 

"Whatever your going to say I don't want to hear it-" 

_"You never want to hear anything! You always act like you're so important and like everything and everyone around you doesn't matter enough for you to listen to them! You've been like that since I met you- Why the fuck do you think I didn't tell you anything?!"_ Dream roared, snapping the bolt he had been fiddling with for a few minutes, in two unequal halves _"I'm sure you would have laughed it off like one of your jokes! Your whole life is a joke... Isn't it? "_

"I don't know" he sniffed and grimaced at his irritated cheeks, covering his ears to stop any more words that could come from Dream "Get away" 

The vibrations of his vocal chords felt so comfortable inside his tired body, like the purr of a satisfied cat that just fell into a careless nap. His eyes were glossy once again and he silently prayed to everything and anything at all that tears wouldn't spill again, his eardrums cracked and he cringed at the sensation of a vacuum inside his ears. Lastly were his knees that carried him with pride over the argument, metaphorically speaking, of course. If it were up to him, he would have already been bawling his eyes on the floor, probably accepting any hand that would give comfort, maybe even the blonde's. 

_"Okay then... "_ Dream finally gave up on the two of them and picked the broken bolt to try and scrap the materials put into it, some time when he wouldn't cry over his stupidity. _"I'm sorry... I know I can't fix things"_ his tone grew more quieter and softer as words fell out of his mouth, spilling his grief and regret over his chest and the brunette's unmoved back. 

He knew the other couldn't hear him, and he also knew that if he tried to get closer he's get hurt again so he just dug his gaze into the thick grass, almost falling silent. 

_"I care about you"_ he whispered to himself and began the process of packing his messenger bag with only the essential items. 

There was no use for him to get the books, the paintings and the single disc he had bough over, back to his house since they'd remind him of George, and he didn't have any use for them if he already knew them by heart. The only things he took were his sword, of course, the carving knife he didn't get to use that much, unless there was an actual sculpture needed to be done, his t-shirt and hoodie (another set of clothes at George's demand) and a small piece of paper which read. 

_'Idot Dram'_

But this time, the spelling mistakes were put there intentionally, to make them both giggle at a time he longed for, while sitting near the warm fireplace and drank a cup of bland tea- 

He didn't need to think about it anymore- The brunette was right in the end... He had gotten too attached, or better said, allowed himself to get attached to someone for the first time in years, and that was his fault only. 

But you couldn't really blame him, could you? 

George had only been kind to him, fed him at times when he forgot completely to eat, even for days at a time, he washed his hoodies even though he complained of the stains and stitches all around it, he tended to his wounds, no matter how deep they were, even for a scratch he made him take a break for the rest of the day- thing which he really didn't understand even now. 

While brushing the thoughts out of his head, he picked the messenger bag and the sword that didn't fit into his pouch, gripping it's handle tightly, avoiding the blade, and eyed the door, terrified. 

When he had stepped out of the house, he glanced around to try and catch a glimpse of the other but he was nowhere to be found, so, without delaying the inevitable for much longer, he took off into the deep birch forest, seemingly swallowing him hole and sheltering him from the timid sun. 

Was he angry? 

Was he scared? 

Was he wretched? 

Truthfully, he was stuck into a deep pit of something viscous, called disappointment, sprinkled with shards of regret, anger and disgust, all of them directed towards himself for the second time in his life. Everytime he tried to climb out of it, the liquid seemed to grow thicker and heavier, disallowing his hands to move much- Of course, all of this was imaginary but he really did felt like drowning a few times. 

After what seemed to be only minutes but were in fact dozens on top of dozens of minutes, he neared the tall area of his house, the crisp pastures around it and the passage only he knew about that would get him on top of the mountain. 

It was a sequence of levers, buttons and pressure plates, all in the same material as the ground below it- a smooth, grayish stone, almost creamy in texture, that spit a faint Redstone signal out when pressed correctly, into the mechanism, opening a piston door, wide enough for him to squeeze through, and that leading into a relatively short hallway to a water tunnel with soul sand at the bottom, bubbling angrily at him. 

"Home sweet home" he sighed and jumped into the water, feeling his limbs instantly relax at the warm mass around him, the bubbles that pushed him to the surface and the smooth surface of the walls. 

But it didn't sit right with him. The elevator was made for a few persons to go up at a time but he couldn't have been bothered to fix it for himself only, so in the vastness of the water, he felt alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The two have split and it seems like Dream had lost all hope.
> 
> George is nowhere to be found--maybe he was on a walk to calm himself down or something else occurred. 
> 
> Thank you for reading everyone <3


	17. Devastation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Through the eyes of a simple man, the horrors of another are unraveled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SKDNDLSJSK
> 
> !! MASSIVE WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER!! 
> 
> There will be fighting, description of corpses and mentions of burning so read at your own advice please! Stay safe guys! 
> 
> Love y'all sm like 7k reads?? Pop off readers???
> 
> !! Not proof-read so spelling/grammar mistakes might appear, I apologize in advance :')

It was cold outside, the air felt sharp, slicing through the nostrils of whoever dared go outside and tend to their own needs and wishes.

The moon loomed menacingly over the quiet village, now subdued into a thick darkness, barely lit up by fragile and pathetic lamps, sprinkled around the unclean paths. 

A golem rested near the church, or the library, or perhaps both at the same time, gawking at the crevices in his stony exterior filled with flowers of many colors and shapes, from the shy dandelion to the much confident rose, even a singular allium right next to his head, the florist's pride.

It had taken good care of the town until now. 

It had fend off the rabid packs of wolves that threatened the livestock around the houses, proved to be the best companion for a few children around the town, even giving them rides when it was a calm day and never let a monster get near it's people, protecting them until it's limbs cracked open and fell apart- only then fixed by a kind tools smith that took pity on it. 

This night was like the other ones, waiting by the atrocious structure with uneven walls and an odd tower emerging from it, guarding the entrance to the village and the most important paths and finally, once it made sure everyone was inside, it would crumble on the floor, resting the few minutes when mobs weren't brave enough to near the loud tantrums of a few kids not wanting to go to bed this early. 

This particular guard had been patrolling the area for the past few years but signs of old age had started to appear long ago. Moss crawled under its cracked arms, thriving in the moisture it collected in the morning and the shade it provided during the day, its eyes, supposedly having to glow red to alert nearby monsters of its existence have long been plucked out by famished spiders, only then realizing they were only stones. A shy ivy crawled from its right leg right next to its neck, acting like some sort of rippled robe, some of its leaves trailing behind wherever it walked. 

To say the least... It looked deplorable. 

And so did the constant groans it emmited sounded--strained and airy, almost reminiscent of a whistle, capable of producing quite a few sounds if someone adjusted the small piece on the back of its head, but surely enough, no one cared for it, more than the children that begged their parents for it to be restored so they wouldn't be left alone. 

The moon just hit her peak, signaling midnight and the time when it was coldest. 

Constant shadows that bent different directions, either by moving or by the aggresive gushes of wind didn't bother the golem much, already used to them. 

Maybe, this was its mistake. 

The mistake of not noticing a smaller shadow, yet a much faster one, gliding between the leaves of the forest surrounding the area, slithering into the dark alleys and various hiding spots, nearing itself after navigating through the maze. 

A few moments of silence followed, where the wind stopped moving, the shadows froze, surprised, and the last light in one of the houses turned off. 

"Peekaboo" the voice giggled, thrusting it's shiny pickaxe into the head of the golem, silencing it forever. 

Once the creature didn't move much, the figure allowed itself to near it and inspect it better, already congratulating itself for putting it out of its misery. 

It had a long stick in one of its hands, covered in some sort of blackish cream, carrying an awful scent and a few pieces of cloth tied messily on top, soaked in the same materials as its underside.

Since the golem had already began shifting to fine sand, falling into the small holes in the ground, becoming one with the earth below it, the figure stood up, gazing at the moon. 

The few stronger rays that lightened its face revealed a circled mask, hidden under a lime greenish hoodie, allowing only a small tuft of blonde hair to slip out of its cover. The lower side of his face was uncovered, streaked by scars, yet he wore a wide grin, his sharp teeth sometimes ripping through his lips. 

His messenger bag looked at least heavy, and by the sounds of various bottles hitting one another, even if covered carefully, one could realize that he was not here in terms of peace, or even as a simple visitor. Barely visible, from under the thick hoodie, a few potions were hung up in the belt, specially made for this. 

One in the color of a ripe plum, clearly more watery than the others since it swirled and bubbled everytime he took a step around, but the one to its right, in a bottle at least twice its size was something orange, glowing in the same tone, more viscous this time, similar to the texture of molten magma. The other one that was visible, was the pinkish tube, covered on top with something made out of rubbed, one of his favorites, safe to say, the famous health potion.

Just after assuring the well-being of all his belongings, Dream looked up at the moon once again and realized, much to his distaste that it had moved enough to indicate an hour, give or take, of time passing. 

With a roll of his eyes, he picked his carving knife and began scouting the area, looking for the house of a particular person. 

It wasn't hard to find since he knew the place by heart, but it was a game of guessing in which one he was sleeping in, so that he didn't barge in onto someone unknown to him and risking to alert the whole biome.

Tommy was nowhere to be found, even after he checked at least a couple of time the places he preferred to have his residence in, almost giving up if not for the other male, his companion, Tubbo, that slept peacefully in the abandoned barn, a few chickens huddled in a pile somewhere near tall haybales. 

He grinned satisfied and opened the tall door enough for him to squeeze through, always making sure to not step on any sticks or half broken tools that laid on the floor. 

It kind of reminded him of the same ordeal with the other blonde, but, contrary to him, the brunette actually wanted to live and would do anything to save his own skin, or at least that's what he'd heard from Tommy when he complained about him. It was quite weird because the two males have seemed to be identical from far away, but from someone as close to them as him, they've had similarities, yes, but they were very unique, not in a good way necessarily.

Brushing the thoughts away while nearing the sleeping male never seemed easier as those were just superficial ideas, never actually planning to spend more time with them swirling his brain. 

_"Oh Tubbo~"_ he whispered and straddled the male, forcing his arms under his knees and his hand over his chapped lips. 

Then, his famous smile followed, almost as if he was excited for the events that will follow this. 

The brunette began to stir and once met by the familiar mask, he struggled under the weight of his knees but to no avail- he was definitely stuck. _"Where is Tommy- I wanted to play with him but since he decided to ditch you, I'll have to take you instead"_ he pouted and shoved the knife under his chin, right above the bump of his neck, now raising and falling unevenly. _"He has done something really... Really bad"_ the blonde deadpanned, pressing the knife harder while feeling his own anger come out. 

Once noticing that, he calmed down a few moments and glanced at his chocolatey eyes, looking around the area frantically. 

_"Please- Oh please Tubbo"_ he giggled _"Calm yourself. I'm not going to hurt you... That bad- If you tell me where he is- And be quiet"_

The half-asleep male nodded and the pressure on his mouth was relieved, but the one on his neck was stronger than ever. 

"He left- He left a few hours ago... H-He didn't take me with him. He said he will be back soon- I don't know where he had gone... I think back to our base- You know where that is, right? Y-You know where the base is " his voice had cracked more times that Dream had fingers on his hands but the only thing that interested him was that he wasn't here. 

_"So he's not here"_

"No" 

_"If I find him somewhere around... Do I kill you both?"_

This time, no verbal answer came from him, only a small shake of his head, obviously terrified of the possible outcome of him lying, if he lied at all. 

He cackled shortly _"On second thought- I think I'll do that- I don't really need your confirmation... It's not a wedding afterall"_ another small laugh at his own joke. 

Suddenly, through the quiet barn, a few steps could be heard from above him, where the second floor of it was built, barely standing under the immense weight of countless haybales and countless bags of dried food. 

By the weight and the duration of time passed between the steps, it was only possible for a bipedal creature to be wandering around it, and what other bipedal creature than Tommy himself. 

_"You lied to me"_ he whispered in his ear, making sure that only he would hear that _"You know what happens now?"_ he pouted and pulled away slowly, looking at his quivering lower lip. 

The brunette aggressively shook his head and tried anything to get his hand off his mouth, even if he was completely pinned down and unable to move. 

_"Goodnight Tubbo"_ he gave a small grin and stuck the knife somewhere deep in his chest, feeling it twitch on the way out. 

He hit the heart. 

Or at least hoped to, since Tubbo's eyes closed slowly, his entire body falling limp in a matter of second after he had stopped tugging his arms free. 

Then, he sat up and glanced at the body for a few moments, taking pity on him and the fact that he had always been there to pay for Tommy's due debts. 

His green shirt was now stained with something blackish in the poor light and it looked absolutely devastated with the few hollow stalks that stuck to it when he ripped the haybale he was sitting on, open. The eyes that looked at him with fear just a minute ago were now shut, his eye lashes covering the few wet spots from unspilled tears, lips fallen into a faint smile, almost content with his end. 

Deciding to not look at him anymore since he'd feel pity, his gaze moved to the ladder that lead to the second floor, almost inviting him to go run after the other and finally do what he's been wanting to do for such a long time now. 

_"Tommy~"_ he sang, quietly, hearing someone's surprised gasp behind a broken wardrobe, earning into a small set of whistles and taunts, looking around every corner. 

The person has now fallen entirely silent when he set foot on the fragile floor, not even daring to breathe anymore. 

_"Tommy... What the fuck-"_ he giggled and knocked down a few pieces of messed up furniture, revealing an empty spot _"You know I'm going to find you, no?"_

Then, almost like he had anticipated it, he noticed a shadow over the opened window into the side, figure looking back at him. He was going to jump, no doubt, but what he'd use to save himself from dying painfully on the way down, could surprise him. 

"Dream" 

_"Tommy"_

"You killed Tubbo... didn't you?" 

_"Because of you-"_ he smiled sourly _"Only if you weren't such a pathetic child and would actually show your face to me, he'd maybe be alive now... You know how much I hate being lied to-"_

"Woow- I see how this goes" he rolled his eyes "You hate being the one lied to but you've lied to both of us since you've known us" one of his legs was swung past the remaining wall, now comfortably sitting on it. 

_"All I did was protect you-"_ he sighed _"You're weak and wouldn't stand a day on your own- Go ahead then! Jump! "_ he readied his knife so he could throw it at him, a few moments faster than Tommy's body moving over the window to jump. 

The five precise seconds between the weapon being thrown, and it landing between the blonde' s shoulder blades seemed to be one of the longest periods of time, for Dream at least, since he awaited the much anticipated thud of when his body would hit the ground. 

_"Bullseye"_ followed by the loud crash of a few items being broken.

He made a quick travel to Tubbo's body, actually hesitating whether he should finish his job or not, finally deciding to leave it alone, but do something else instead. 

Out of his messenger bag, the same torch with the soaked cloth and coal fragments tied in it was pulled out, along with some kind of mechanism that could emmit a spark, much needed to lit the stick up. Lastly, the only thing that he did after setting the two objects on a nearby box, was to carry the other body inside, even if he grimaced at the weird angles that the bones bent in, retrieving his favorite knife. 

Then, while silently humming to himself, he flinged the 'lighter' open and grabbed the torch, barely holding back the immense grin he would allow to surface soon enough. 

He was ecstatic to say the least. 

Dream hasn't made a big 'grill' in such a long time and he couldn't even remember the smell of burnt wood and dried grass. 

Without hesitating more, he set it aflame and neared the haybales, instantly giggling at the smoke forming and the hungry flames hurrying to consume everything that came in contact with them. He passed by a few more places, mainly where it seemed that the wood was the driest and it would actually burn faster. 

After he decided that he was done with this particular building, he skipped around a few others, mainly the ones that didn't connect with the barn. Since many buildings had a shared roof, a shared wall or a shared fence it was easier to make the whole town one giant torch, destroying everything around the area. 

It was done. 

The light reflected on the from of his mask, giving him an eerie presence, even more unnerving than usually. His left hand reached for the potion holder, the one closest to it, the one with the orange liquid and without hesitating even a moment, even if he knew that the taste would be disgusting, he drank the whole liquid, gagging at how hard it was to swallow. 

_"Finally"_ he grinned, derrangedly _"After all these years... You're gone... YOU'RE. GONE. "_ he yelled at the village, not one house in particular but the whole idea of it. 

In his right hand, the torch still burned, the coals on top just a little warmer than the atmosphere, producing a faint, reddish light on his pants. 

Then, just as he had taken notice of it, the wind began to blow at him, hating his crimes and all of his sorrow filled actions, blowing the hood off his head, revealing his wet cheeks, stained by fine dust but also dirt, a mix of the two, something he didn't want to get in his mouth. 

Even though his eyes kept spilling fat tears for the memories he had in this place, the corners of his mouth were still curled up into a wide, satisfied grin. 

Just after feeling his whole body grow a little warmer than usually, he ran into the flames, untouched by them. 

Various animals screamed and wailed melancholically, maybe wanting to impress Dream, wake up their owners or at least find comfort in each other's misery. Either way, he couldn't be bothered by those as he was nearing Zak's house, laughing like a maniac while pushed around by the few animals that escaped and looked for a place to take refuge into. 

The way there wasn't that long, since he had quite a lot of fun on his little journey, staring at the landscape none other than him had created, mesmerized by the twirling flames that already started to spread towards the small river that split it from the forests and other biomes. He was sad that he couldn't incendiate a whole map in one go, but he'll have to be better prepared if he wanted to do so. 

It was still dark outside so he wasn't surprised when he noticed a sleepy Zak swing the door open, even more surprised to see him by the door. 

"Wait... Dream?" he rubbed his eyes again, still not believing it. 

_"Zak- Please take anything that you find of value and come with me... Or get somewhere safe"_ he tried to find another option if the shorter male wasn't willing to follow him. 

"You're covered in bloo-" 

_"Yes I am aware of that"_ his tone was terribly calm, even for himself. 

And only then had Zak moved his head to look behind the blonde, completely shocked by the growing fire. He blinked, confused, looking at Dream's hands and shoes, noticing them stained with charcoal yet also carrying the smell of what he knew was a weird mix of alcohol and blaze powder, a very inflammable material. 

"You didn't- Wait... Did you?" 

_"Pack your stuff- We don't have much time... It's spreading fast"_

He had always knew that Dream wasn't the brightest, the most forgiving or the kindest person so he didn't have high expectations for him, but he didn't really think that he'd burn a whole village down to the ground, just because he had problems with one resident from it. 

"Well I'm sorry I didn't have it packed- Didn't really expect to have my village burned" he retorted sarcastically but was interrupted by Dream coming in, picking various things off the tables and walls, inspecting them for a few moments while stuffing them in a bag he had found. 

_"Stop being so dramatic- You barely even talked to most of them"_ he chuckled _"You only know Tommy and he's annoying enough to make you want to never speak to him again so I don't see where is the problem"_

"The problem is- My soil is going to be absolutely dead and messed up if I move with you-" 

_"And that's what you worry about?"_ the blonde wheezed and swung the other bag over his shoulder _"Well- I mean... everyone has priorities"_ this ended with both of them giving a small chuckle as they walked out of the house, into the tundra behind the vast, farmed lands, 

"Honestly I just wanted to get out of this shit hole and I needed a good excuse" Zak laughed and held his sword next to his legs, careful to not cut either of them "Nobody liked me and they only wanted my crops" he wiped off a fake tear. 

_"Wow... Good thing I fucked up their houses then"_ he shrugged, still smiling widely. 

A loud cackle and a wheeze interrupted the silence, signaling that they both thought it was funny even though it was a serious conversation. 

After the laughing fit the two had, they calmed down and walked for a few minutes in complete silence, only the clanking of Dream's boots interrupting the silence. 

"Soo where are we going" 

_"My house... I think"_

"Understandable... " he gave a small nod, approving of the idea "Oh-! We can farm the area around it-" his excitement was cut short. 

_"No. I don't need anyone to know we are there... That's the whole point of it- It's kind of like a secret base"_

"Okay mister invisible Man" 

_"What even is it supposed to mean"_ he wheeze histerically, completely losing his mind over the odd selection of words. 

The two joked on the way to Dream's base, Zak seemingly pleased with the decision that all the bad people have been eliminated from the village, and whoever wanted to, could take shelter in his house if it would still be standing tomorrow. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zak and Dream share a really strong bond.
> 
> George still hasn't left any trace of his existence and that only makes the rabbit hole go deeper. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! <3


	18. Desolation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While trying to clear his mind from all kinds of thoughts, George discovers something that might just help with passing time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone is doing amazing and I'm so thankful for all the lively people that take the time to read this <3
> 
> I really want to mention that I've already decided on the two endings of the book (a sad one and a happy one, since some people actually wanted a sad one- me too honestly) and I'm going to do them as following. 
> 
> The sad one will be earlier in the book, almost like the outcome of another chapter, I hope it will be a longer chapter of course, since it's going to end afterall. 
> 
> The happy ending will continue from the chapter before the sad ending, so the book can keep on going with it's most voted final. 
> 
> I hope everything is clear and if there is something you're confused about, or have a question that doesn't include me giving spoilers, don't be shy to comment <3

Once he made sure that a day had passed since Dream vanished from his house, or at least took all his belongings from it, George returned to the area, greeted by its musky scent, something combined between the smell of freshly cut wood and rotting moss.

His lips cracked a sad smile, silently wishing for the times he knew way less things than he did now, the times when he'd go to sleep next to the blonde, pleased with the things they have done that day. 

And just as he had said, it wasn't that hard to get attached to him- He was funny and horrifyinlgy smart at the same time, yet sometimes proved to have no trace of brain in his head, doing stuff someone as experienced as him shouldn't be allowed to. He liked to show him how to do things, make something of his own, rarely enough, being able to learn something from each other.

Thinking about this bought a bitter-sour taste in his mouth since the sweetness had long been swallowed

It was still something unbelievable for him. 

Had he been really lied to all this time? Of course, Dream had his reasons, he wanted to protect him, or made a poor attempt to, and somehow managed to keep their brittle friendship stable, enough for it to get sturdier, only now, getting absolutely destroyed by a piece of explosive, called 'lie'

And on top of that, on top of the shameless lies he had told him over these years, he made him look like an idiot, in front of Tommy that inky yelled at him about things he had done, crimes he had committed. He felt clueless and so confused, but he couldn't bring himself to break the eye contact between the two blondes at that moment. 

Now, he reached the generous porch of the house, his hand resting for a few more moments on the sculpted part of the beam, a 'D' and a 'G', precisely the initials of their names, with a few letters between them, from the galactic alphabet, translated as 'always'. 

"I shouldn't have let you ruin it..." his tongue refused absolutely to twist in such way as to be able and say his name out loud, falling into an awkward silence, even though no one could hear him. 

His steps seemed so loud, almost like he was jumping on pieces of glass that crackled violently with every move and his head was swirling with thoughts, unanswered questions and doubts on himself.

'Have I been too harsh?' this one in particular never seemed to leave him alone, no matter how much he tried to sleep or just forget about it. 

It would either get a short, brief 'No!' or a pathetic 'I don't know' or even a small, quiet 'yes' sometimes, even though he tried to not think about it.

Dream was a criminal afterall, and he couldn't live with a criminal, could he? 

There were already too many questions gathering inside his head so he decided to look for the bedroom, plummeting on the soft mattress, his aching bones thanking him silently.

Not that he minded being alone, but in fact- He minded it and it felt weird for him to be the only one inside the spatious room. 

The bed before him looked so empty and desolate even if it was neatly made, the pillow resting perfectly on the greenish mattress. Even the box at its end looked so clean even if it carried the weight of so many things- clothes, books, tools, obviously stained with various substances, dried dirt that would fall off sometimes during the night, and a horrendous scent from a stain, gotten probably when they played around the river.

Instead of gawking at a stained white circle for a few minutes before he fell asleep, sometimes even the blonde tuft of hair that slipped on top of it, he now was met by a wooden wall, the only thing left to do being counting the rings and lines on it, trying to make up some shapes reminiscent of animals and objects.

His teeth chewed hungrily on his lips while hugging the pillow he was supposed to sleep on.

The whole entirety of his body shook lightly, maybe both out of the low temperature and the fact that he was on the verge of crying, signaled by a quiet sob. 

He had been so insensitive when they fought and he didn't even give Dream time to explain himself as he had shut him off, like a light, when he got tired of listening to him. It was the least he could have done after pointing the bow towards him after just being taught how to use it. Maybe it could have changed the outcome, not by much, but maybe it could have been angled differently, pointing towards another outcome.

Yet, he chose not to do that, ending with him crying for at least an hour, marked by the quiet movement of his now wet lips, moving every sixty seconds to announce the passing of an entire minute.

Why did he count, you may ask yourself, now stuck in a terrible loop of confusion. 

Well... Maybe he was expecting himself to wake up in front of the blonde, be greeted by his sharp-teethed smile and a 'did you have a nightmare?' while he felt his hand rub weird shapes on his back.

But after he had passed the one hour and five minutes mark, he knew that it was all a waste of time which he could have used to rest after trailing around the woods for almost an entire day and half a night. 

It could safely be assumed that he got lost- without his human compass, he was as clueless as a baby animal, looking everywhere for its parent, this time, him looking for Dream.

And it felt so depressing to think about all the fun stuff they did and realize that it's going to stay in the past, maybe he'd even forget if he tried hard enough, but he had made himself quite unforgettable, something he would eventually kill him for. 

Firstly, his posture was always a little slouched and it was clearly visible that he wasn't reaching his maximum height, even when he stood up. Then, the infamous mask that covered most of his face, only leaving naked the quarter right under his nose, exposing his cheeks with faint holes in them, showered in scratches and bruises. His clothes looked dirty and had stitches all along them, but he looked way too comfortable in them so he could take them off. And something that George had noticed recently was that he seemed to carry a type of curved blade in his messenger bag, something related to a carving knife, made from a light blueish stone. 

"Ugh" he rolled on his other side, his back now facing the bed in which his companion was supposed to sleep in "I hate you-" his tone was calm but even he doubted himself if he meant it or not. "-I hate you so much..." 

He lied. 

He lied so shamelessly.

And the worst thing? 

He couldn't stop doing it. 

His brain screamed at him, telling him that he should hate Dream because doing that is not morally acceptable and he could get in a lot of trouble if he's seen around him anymore, just as he had been before they got back to the house. He could get murdered in his sleep and he wouldn't even know it, he could get poisoned, or even worse, burned alive-

But-

His heart that still did its best to keep him sane, told him otherwise. It tried to calm his brain down, spilling honey over the burn of their argument. 'He only protected you because he cares about you' it told him most of the time, whenever his thoughts would get too aggresive to keep going. 'He changed' and maybe by the many times it has been repeated to him, he finally realized it on his own.

Of course, this happened over the course of a whole agonizing week. He barely ate, drank water and slept, deciding that it would be wiser to cry everynight, at a fixed schedule just now made up. 

When he woke up, he'd take care of the area around the house and make sure no monsters would bother him during the day, then he'd find something to occupy himself with- either mine and gather more ores and stones, gather wood for possible future projects, and sometimes he took walks around the beach at sunset, leaving his head empty for ten minutes, the distance between the savanna and his own plains.

He had lost weight and he obviously looked malnourished and sick. His cheeks have lost the rosy color they've always been painted to, now a grayish creamy color, stained most of the times with a grainy white line- the trail his salty tears left behind after he finally passed out from exhaustion.

As the days went on, even after a week, he began to feel the blonde's absence even more that ever. 

He missed talking to someone while he chopped trees and cut them to pieces that could be used to build anything he'd like. The path to the river had started to grow its grass back, especially on the trail that Dream always followed, now left prey to the insects and grubs around.

The clanking of only one pair of boots was off putting as well, along with the missing sounds of bottles hitting each other, crumpled papers and metallic objects scratching the inside of his messenger bag.

Maybe he made a mistake afterall. 

He shouldn't have let himself get so attached- 

He should have definitely refused to go with him to the village, maybe shoot him on the spot if he had the wits to.

And even thought he tried to make himself regret his past decisions, he simply couldn't. 

They've had so much fun toghether, they made all kinds of dishes and called the other to taste them, they made a house toghether and healed the ground around it, they slept on the same mattress when it was too cold inside the cave. Simply put, they acted like people that have known each other for decades, always bickering and cracking jokes even if it wasn't the right time to.

Finally, deciding that he shouldn't dwell on the past anymore, he walked out of the house one day, with a simple thought in his head, obviously the only one since a small smile streaked his pale face. 

He would be going fishing and hopefully make a few dolphin friends since they seemed noisier that usually, even if it was terribly cold outside. 

It hasn't snowed they but the edge of the river had already started to freeze, closing the space in which a shy school of cods would play in. Of course, they weren't used to the new envoierment so they'd take at least a few weeks to get to know the location perfectly. 

George fed them a few times now, pleased with how they swirled at the surface to greedily catch the bites of dried bread, splashing around, silently thanking him for the poor meal. The healthy kelp had died from unknown reasons, yet he speculated that it was because of the temperatures. 

Somehow, he ended up spending an entire hour on a simple fish hook and a bobber, surprisingly enough, being rewarded with a fishing rod, a poor quality one, but it was something that he had made himself so it was satisfying to hold it, look at it and realize that it stuck toghether even after dropping it when stumbling on the stairs, down the porch.

The faint trail that he made by walking over it for a few days, towards the savanna, didn't take more than a dozen minutes to follow to his favorite spot. 

A medium heighted hill, slightly leaned over the mass of water, having luxurious tress with identically generous vines falling from them, almost reaching the water if they weren't eaten by all kinds of animals and insects. The rock right below the thin layer of grass was darker in color, way more brittle and it had a somewhat muddy scent, noticing that it soaked up the water, similar to a sponge. Dolphins took refuge under the stone since it provided shelter from both the rain, now cold and unforgiving, and the wind that cooled the surface of the water. They always swarmed the shores whenever he came around, would never shut up, and most importantly, begged for food even though he barely had any for himself.

Luckily, the sun was still relatively close to midday so he had a couple of hours to spare on clearing his head and maybe catching something to eat even if he wasn't that big of a fan of fish.

Sure, he had noticed Dream's face lighting up whenever he managed to catch one (with his hands), always begging him to cook it for him, even though he was a terrible chef and would most likely burn its skin. And he ignored him everytime, happy with the way it was cooked, always taking time to clean the belly of the fish of bones and offer it to George, trying to get him to like it as much as he did. 

But he was always refused, even though he tried many times to convince him, George couldn't bring himself to eat something that the blonde liked so much but was relatively hard to aquire for them.

This earned him the rarely used nickname of 'seagull', exactly meaning what its animal counterpart did. 

George would rather not go in detail anymore since he'd most surely begin crying once again and he came there to especially not do that. 

The walk there was short and uneventful, if not for a figure standing on top of his hill, having the same thoughts as him, apparently. 

It was fishing peacefully, humming a quiet song he didn't know about, nor heard it before, swinging his legs over the terrifically thin edge of the land. 

Realizing that if he called out to it, the whole biome would be alerted, most importantly his friends, if he had any around, he continued to silently walk towards the aforementioned, his pace just a little bit faster. 

"Who are you" George looked at the figure that only now bothered to turn around and flash a toothy smile, carefree written all over his face. 

"I could ask you the same question-" his hand got tugged at, the fishing rod slipping out of them and into the blue lake under him. "Look what you've done-" 

"I-" George wheeze "I didn't do anything-" 

"You made me look away from it, and the dolphins caught onto it" he pouted, even though it was barely visible over the hood he had over his head. 

The brunette let out a loud 'tsk' followed by a roll of his eyes and a brief look that practically yelled 'are you serious right now?' 

"I'm Skeppy" he lifted his hand, waiting for George to do the same so that they could shake them, a silent agreement to peace, for now at least. 

"Uh-... George" their hands shook viguriously before he took a seat next to him, gazing down into the water at the rod floating aimlessly on its surface, the bobber a few feet away from it, spinning haphazardly from crustanceans nibbling on the bait at the end of the line. 

A calm silence settled between them, even though they were complete strangers, though he felt that this was someone he had contact to, heard about or even saw around the village. 

"I- Have this" he put his homemade rod in the slightly tanner male's hand, giving a sheepish chuckle "Sorry for making you drop your-" 

"Woah! This looks amazing" his hands moved along the tool, inspecting where the string attached to it, somehow reminded of a professional one. "Did you make it?" 

"Yeah-" 

"So Dream didn't lie about you" he spoke, now shoving a worm into the hook, careful to not stab the tips of his fingers 

"Dream?" 

"Yeah... He said you two know each other" he shrugged lightly before throwing it below, happy that it comfortably reached the waters. 

"He really thinks that, huh?" 

"Mhmm" he hummed, his gaze fixed onto the reddish tip of the tool, waiting for it to succumb into the greenish liquid, signaling that a fish was too greedy to look for food on its own. 

"How do you two even know each other" 

"The village" 

"I see" 

"Well of course you do, you'd be blind otherwise-" 

It seemed that Dream's humor had sadly spread to this particular person as well, this joke reminding him of the ones he used to receive from the blonde. 

Deciding to abandon the conversation, he looked around but since it didn't seem interesting to also stare at the lake, he inspected Skeppy's facial structure, something he couldn't really be able to do with Dream. 

He had a soft jawline and his flesh was obviously more tanned than him, signaling that he might have been a farmer, or at least someone that spent a lot of time outside, in the violent sun rays. To be honest, every single detail of his face looked soft, in a childish manner almost. His nose had a slight bump but he thought that it was charming over all, the same thing with his eyes that looked calm and superficial, yet in a good way. 

After a generous ten minutes of waiting in silence, he noticed that the other wouldn't stop biting the inside of his cheeks, his lips and own tongue, perhaps gaining a slight satisfaction from it. 

"Could you stop that?" he spoke, exasperated. 

"Stop what" he looked at him, for a few moments before staring back, continuing to do the same thing. 

"Chewing your cheek-" 

"Why" 

George laughed lightly "Because it sounds like I'm next to two teenagers that are eating each other's face up" 

"Eww" he received a hit on his shoulder when he continued to make the sounds, putting emphasis on clicking his tongue and making kissy sounds. 

He couldn't help letting out a loud chuckle, soon enough, getting Skeppy to join in too, even if they threatened to fall down the cliff, get wet and maybe freeze to death if they didn't already die from the impact with the water. 

Again, they calmed down and silently watched the landscape, noticing that the sun began to go down. 

The last few rays of light covered everything in a light yellowish tone, warming up the few dolphins on the water that have decided to resume to delighted clicks and quiet murmurs. A few birds have gathered into the tree alongside them, eating from something on it's bark, probably little caterpillars that couldn't have chosen a worse time to come out than now. 

George had realised that he maybe let his guard down too fast with the slightly shorter male but he couldn't really blame himself for it since he had been starved of any human interaction for quite a while now. 

"Hey Skeppy" 

"What's up" 

"Where is Dream right now" they both looked at each other as if on cue, one more surprised that the other. 

"He said that you guys are split up" 

"Poor choice of words--But where is he-" 

"Uhhh... Home I think" he was surely taken aback by the sudden question, somehow thinking that he wouldn't ever ask, or better said, hoped. 

"I see" he looked into his lap, suddenly realizing that his home wouldn't be more than twenty minutes of running at full pace from his house. "How was he-" 

"Miserable." 

He exhaled loudly "As expected."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> George was so surprised at the mention of Dream, it almost drove him crazy
> 
> Zak had noticed their behaviors so he has a faint ideea of what went down, maybe he could help them fix things? He's their last hope in the end....


	19. Denouement (!SAD ENDING!)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After all this time, he had finally snapped, seemingly for the last time in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!! WARNING !!!
> 
> There will be mentions of suicide, detailed murder and organ handling, obviously a tragic ending and heartbreak. 
> 
> If you voted for the happy ending or/and can't take sad endings I suggest not reading this chapter, but if you're brave, push through. <3
> 
> Read at your own risk!  
> _____________
> 
> So here we are! The first ending to this wonderful story has arrived and I know I know... this has quite been the definition of slow burn and I understand. The book will continue with the normal chapter after this (as if it was only the happy ending)
> 
> I hope everyone is doing amazing today even if I'll probably bring you suffering with this one :')

After his odd encounter with perhaps the only person that would know anything at all about Dream, George couldn't sleep one bit.

He turned, flipped his pillow a few times to get the cold side, the window was slightly ajar but he couldn't leave it unlocked since the wind would eventually open it all the way and the room would get too cold for him live in. Even the mattress seemed like a lake of molten lava, ditching the blanket long time ago. 

Once in a while, his stomach would rumble aggressively at him, demanding food since the acid inside of it already began to burn the walls of it, making his insides itch histerically. 

His throat closed and opened a few times, demanding something even simpler than its friend- It wanted some water so the walls of it could get moistened after his days long crying sessions and barely used vocal chords. 

If you didn't have anyone to talk to, you wouldn't really use your vocal chords, would you? 

Yes, you could have spoken to an animal that would actually tilt its head at you, confused most of the time, but if anyone went by, they'd clearly consider you insane. 

But this didn't seem the problem for the brunette since he started having opened monologues, arguing with himself sometimes, maybe agree with some points of view only he had created, or just remaining neutral to them, something he began doing recently, getting tired of drying his mouth for no one to listen to.

The following days have been the same, only now that Skeppy was nowhere to be found, almost like he had vanished into the distance, triggering all kind of thoughts inside his tired brain. 

He didn't think rationally anymore, or at least, not after starving himself and not sleeping because he needed answers to his lunatic questions.

His is mind ran on unknown lands, never actually paying attention to what he was doing, creating imaginary landscapes he could stare at all day, mesmerized by the creativity of his own brain. 

Pictures of mighty mountains and tranquil forests always seemed to be the first thing he thought of, the snowy taiga and the even now warm savanna following suit after. 

It was something that helped him, in a way, since it now occupied most of his free time- Daydreaming about places that might have never existed or will never exist, wishing to fall asleep in the shade of a tall acacia while gently caressed by the warm breeze, or sit on top of a mountain, feeling like the king of all lands- What a dream! 

Somewhere, somehow, on a mountain similar to the one on his mind, near a weirdly identical pasture, were seated two figures, one of them clearly taller than the other, talking quietly among themselves while eating from a shared bowl.

The first one, laying down, closer to the edge of the steep lip of rock, wore a light blue jacket, filled with all kinds of embroideries, stickers and holes in the lower side of it, since it almost reached his knees, sometimes bursting into uncontrollable chuckles, choking on his own food.

The other figure that took refuge on the safer side of the plateau ate quietly, sometimes commenting on the other's poor choice of vocabulary, quietly wheezing while also making sure to not inhale any of the food. He wore a lime, greenish hoodie with a painted smiley face on its front, with the new addition of a few patches on his back, where deep holes were fixed. 

"Hey Dream" the more tanned male spoke, after a few moments of silence he couldn't stand. 

_"Whaf-"_ he spoke with his mouth full just after taking a generous bite of his piece of bread. 

"You know that I went fishing a few days ago... No?" he asked and let out a small smile, waiting an answer even though the blonde decided to take another bite of the bread. 

_"Sho?"_

"I met George" he grinned histerically once Dream inhaled a few dried crumbles, hearing him try to swallow, now being the best show he'd seen in a long time. 

_"You. What."_

"He gave me his fishing rod since I dropped mine, haven't you noticed that it looks better than what we had-" 

_"No no no no- How did you meet him, where was he... How was he?"_ he desperately asked, trying to fish out as much information from Zak as possible _"Was he okay-? Please tell me he was okay-"_

"If skinny as a skeleton means okay, then sure, he is doing great-!" he sarcastically exclaimed, crossing his hands on top of his chest. 

_"Did you mention anything about me?"_

"I-... Uhm.." his gaze moved from Dream to his lap, suddenly falling extremely quiet. 

_"Tell me already! I need to know!"_

The pressure felt heavy on their lungs, finally, one of them snapping. 

"I also need to know where Bad went!" he yelled back, his eyes getting terribly wet even if he wiped them briefly "You need to tell me where he went! I haven't seen him in years, you hear? YEARS!" he cried out.

 _"I already told you he's not here! He's-"_ but he was cut short.

"Yes! I know! He's never here! He's always traveling so far away that you can't find him... Tell me! What happened to him... What are you hiding?" Skeppy's entire body shook, mostly from the anger he felt right now, but also the feelings he had buried deep down, now suddenly surfacing like fat, helium-filled balloons.

Dream exhaled loudly and ran a hand through his hair. 

_"I'm not hiding anything-"_

"You are! If not- Bad would be here and we wouldn't have this conversation" the brunette bit his lips angrily and stared at the other with hateful eyes.

 _"I'm not- Zak... Please, be reasonable"_ he spoke calmly even though he felt like stabbing himself in the chest for lying to his closest friend. 

"The problem is that I am reasonable! I've always been... I helped you- You came to me one night and I helped you for weeks" he yelled "You could barely stand and you were so stupid then- You cried that you're going to die and I never let you down-" after losing his appetite, he left the piece of food he was going to eat back on the table, wiping his hand on a cloth they shared. 

_"You're ridiculous! You're meaning to say that I never helped you?! All you did was farm all day and you spend your days like a mole inside your house! I showed you the world and given you items others could only wish for- And I still didn't help you?"_ he exclaimed, now visible that both hurt from the words they spat at each other.

"Fine then... Help me one last time" he sobbed "The last time I'll be asking for help from you is this moment, right now" 

_"Fucking... Yeah- Whatever, what is it"_ he gazed at the other, annoyed by such a sudden plea. 

"Tell me where Bad is" 

_"Travelling"_ the answer came a few seconds after the question, in a brief whisper. 

"Incredible... I trust you so much and you still dare lie in my face... I'm- wow- I-" he sighed and got up, looking at him, dangerously disappointed.

 _"I'm not... I- It's not a lie"_ he defended, clearly not believing himself anymore either.

"It is obviously a lie! Don't you see? You're lying to me and you know it damn well... Even I can see that you're lying like an asshole to me... Tell me already! Just tell me!" Zak's eyes began to water again, even though they were already a bright red, from continuously wiping them during their argument. 

_"Fine... Fine! Do you want the truth? Do you really want the truth?"_ the blonde roared, biting his own lips while his gaze fell onto the floor.

"Just tell me for fuck's sake-" Skeppy commented, visibly annoyed. 

_"He's dead"_

"H-He's... what?" they both stopped breathing. 

The few seconds of calmness before Zak erupted into a pained yell were all that Dream wished of now, watching the other crumble under the weight of the devastating news. 

_"He's DEAD! And has been for years now! I never told you 'cause I knew how you'd react, I knew that you'd hate me if I told you this- And you'd pester me to tell you what happened"_ he tried to defend himself but the other had already gone silent, a bad sign, especially coming from someone as talkative as him.

"You're right... I will pester you to tell me what happened until my last breath, that is" his bloodshot eyes rose from the scarce grass, looking at the two dots on Dream's mask.

 _"No"_ the blonde shook his head and stood up _"I won't say that now"_

"THEN?" Zak yelled, exhausted "When? When are you going to tell me? Are you going to leave it like that? Leave and not talk about it again? Come on... You're not like that- Dream.. Please- I'm begging you to tell me" 

Dream still vigurously shook his head, picking his bag off the floor.

 _"You should have formulated your sentence better Zak"_ the bag was swung over his shoulders, as he inspected everything inside of it. "I was willing to respond to only one question and you wasted it" he lightly shrugged, knowing that he won't ever hear the end of it.

Already on the verge of insanity, the tanned male picked up a sword off the ground, not bothering to see whose it was, pointing the tip towards the mask he knew too well. 

He had never seen the person under it, even if they've known each other for so long, he had never dared to ask him about it, deciding that he should mind his own bussiness, yet now he regretted staying quiet. 

_"Are you threatening me?"_ he rose an eyebrow even if the opaque circle on top of his face didn't allow it to be visible. _"Do you think I'm scared of dying?"_ he gave a defying chuckle _"Do you even have an idea of who I am?"_

"You're my friend Dream and I want you to tell me about Bad before I do something we'll both regret" 

_"Something that **you** will regret, Skeppy. I'm not even bothered by that sword.. Go ahead! Stab me! I dare you!"_ his arms rose as a sign of confidence, ready to feel the pain of the blade that has a fifty percent chance of being his fire aspect one.

"We both know I won't do it" he grumbled, his grip on the sword growing weaker. 

The fact that they were on the edge of the cliff didn't help them either, since no water source below it would be thick enough for them to safely land in it. If one of the lost his balance and fell, he'd have a painful death, rolling down the spiky mountains, eventually falling on a gravel beach, next to a shallow pond.

"Just tell me please... " 

_"I don't want to talk anymore"_ he tried to get away from the edge but his shoulders were gripped tightly by the shorter male, now crying loudly, snot already trailing down from his nose.

"Tell me! It isn't even connected to you so why would you care if I know or not? Tell me... Please, Dream I-" he let out a yawn, now finally feeling the tiring argument's pressure on his shoulders "I... I need to know"

A few moments of silence in which the two eyed each other down, shaking from both anger and the temperature that had started to go down, had passed swiftly, with neither of them making any movement other than blinking. 

_"It still remains no-"_

"PLEASE" he yelled, already frustrated with his endless pleading over something he should have known years ago. "You're so annoying! I've been begging you to tell me for the past twenty minutes and you didn't budge- Are you mocking me right now? I'm sure you are- 'Hah look at this idiot that has no idea how his friend died'!" he mocked Dream's voice, earning an impatient sigh from him. 

_"Would you let me go?"_ he squeezed the leathery cover of his bag, his irritation pouring over his actions rather than his words. 

"No!- Just say it! I know it's on the tip of your tongue but you still act so stubborn- Ugh- I hate you!" he pushed him back, earning a punch to his face. _"Hate me all you want... I don't even care anymore-"_ he picked the sword off the ground, the tip of it coming in contact with Zak's chest _"He was murdered"_

This caught the brunette's attention, now terribly close to the brittle stone on the edge. 

"How do yo-" but he was interrupted, rudely. 

_"Because I killed him!"_ he admitted, shamefully, pushing the sword just enough for it to go through the thin skin on his chest, into the thick bones of his ribs, pushing him enough to lose his balance and stumble off the ledge. "I'm a criminal!" he threw the sword somewhere near him, now bundled into a ball while gripping at his blonde locks. 

He didn't dare stare down, over the edge at the body that laid peacefully on the warm colored gravel, getting slowly washed un into the ocean by a few more angrier waves. 

_"I killed you- I killed Bad... Sapnap- Oh Sapnap"_ Dream's eyes watered slightly, deciding to ditch the mask. 

It revealed a pair of green, watery eyes, spilling onto the freckled cheeks, wet with the same substance- salty tears bough by the way he acted and spoke. The corners of his mouth were pulled down by the disgust directed at himself, now, a deep frown. 

_"I'm so sorry"_ he spoke to no one in particulal _"It's so wrong... It's so messed up- I did it! I killed people- I really did..."_ he trailed off, staring into the vastness of the ocean, visible from here. 

His hands wanted to grip the hair so tight that it would rip off his head, along with the skin, the only thing left there being the skull, which he'll break with a rock to get to the brain and just smash it between his palms. 

_"Oh George... I lied to you"_ he sobbed uncontrollably, _"I lied so much and you still loved me"_

It felt at least weird to try to explain the emotions that ran inside his head at the moment. 

He wanted to crawl in a hole and never be seen again by anyone, die in it peacefully and become one with the ground, at the same time, he wanted to forget everything and start a new life, unaware of the weights he carried around, like a prisoner, a slave to his own mind. 

The blonde wanted to scream, curse and cry, all at the same time, probably ending with him passed out if he overworked himself more. 

Yet, the only thing he could think of right now was that Zak could be on the other side of the world, already trying to forget about his existence and start everything over, from the very start. His house most likely burned and the bed was unusable, making him unable to respawn at the village, a couple of hours of sprinting from here. 

With shaking hands, he grabbed his carving knife from inside the messenger bag, burrowing it in one of the pockets of his pants, deciding to do something only a lunatic would. 

He'd try to reason with George, and maybe this time, he'd take him back after being split up for so long, even if he didn't forgive his sins, they could start to build back the friendship he had demolished with no censor.

 _"Ooh George~"_ he called quietly and neared his house, already rummaging through the chests to try and find a last ender pearl. 

Many of them had cracked and a viscous liquid poured from them, staining and consuming anything it touched, almost like an acid. Some of them had hatched, the creatures slithering away, marked by a faint, purplish line of goo. He had figured that they are enderman eggs, or pearls, maybe they were like clams, but he didn't have time to think about it since it was useless information. 

Luckily, the last uncracked orb presented itself in an impeccable state, with only light scratches on the surface, the creature growing inside of it still a faint speck of darker mass. He pressed in certain spots to make sure that the shell was still having its glassy texture and I could easily smash open. 

The last thing to do now, was so throw it as further as he could, hoping that it would break. Some of his older attempts resulted in wasted pearls, from not knowing how to use them and failing to crack them open in contact with the grass. 

Surprisingly, the sphere did break and he teleported to its location, even if it wasn't the best one- A few steps away awaited Zak's mashed body, his arms and legs bent in inhuman positions. 

Almost as on cue, his eyes watered at the view, reminding him of how much of a monster he is. 

With shaking hands, he grabbed a few poppies and dandelions, trying to make a pretty bouquet even if the flowers didn't help much. A few more generous leaves of some unlucky fern growing not far away also got mixed between them, trying to give it as much of a good aspect as he could. 

The tanned male loved anything that was green- the crops he took such good care of, trees he watered in the driest of days and luxurious rose bushes that had the pleasure of being trimmed every few weeks or so, always in an perfect, cubical shape. 

Dream crouched next to the body, looking at it sadly _"We'll meet again"_ he whispered softly, planting a brief kiss to the other's bloody forehead. 

And with that, he began walking towards George's house, the place he knew too well for his own good, completely unaware of the splotches of blood on his hoodie, quite obvious that they weren't dried ones, quite fresh, from when he sat the bouquet in Zak's cold hands. 

The landscape was familiar. 

He passed a few burned trees in which various animals took shelter, mostly rabbits and foxes, one at a time obviously since the carnivore wouldn't hesitate to score a warm meal. 

After that, came an area with a few permanent puddles that never seemed to get soaked into the ground, always there to quench the thirst of animals brave enough to show themselves during the day. 

While thinking about what he'd say so the brunette when they met, his eyes moved to the entrance to the cave they had their house in while they built the cabin, obviously untouched from how everything looked the same, the door in the same position they had left it when they rushed our of it on the last day, marking the project as finished. 

Taken aback by the now poorly lit house, he looked around curiously but to no sign of the brunette. 

Considering that it would be better if he kept quiet, he neared one of the open windows, peeking inside. 

Nothing. 

Without any slight trace of hesitation, he heaved himself inside, through the small window, proud of his success once he was met by the familiar interior. 

It was the exact same couch in the middle of the room but the walls looked empty without all of his notes and papers, now crumpled on the floor, some next to the quiet fireplace, some bundled in a corner, next to what seems to be a pile of unused firewood. 

Since he wasn't the most careful when he crawled in, he knocked over a shovel resting on the wall, the person inside the bedroom obviously having one of the slowest reactions he had ever seen. 

George emerged, wearing his turquoise jacket and glasses on top of his head, carrying a diamond blade. 

The blonde put his hands up once their eyes met, visibly surprised. 

"What the hell-" the brunette blinked a few times confused and shakily pointed the sword at him "Didn't I tell you to dissappear-" 

_"I need to talk to you. "_

"We have absolutely nothing to talk about- Just... Get out" he hesitated slightly, observed by the other as well. 

_"I have to tell you something"_ he still held his arms up, to not give George any ideas that he might be threatening him again. 

"No- No! Dream- We've already had this conversation" he rolled his eyes, his grip tightening on the sword, not wanting to be lied to again. 

_"I know- Let me explain! Please! You don't want me to explain it- I know you think I'm horrible but let me tell you what you need to know"_ he smiled weakly, trying to earn the brunette's empathy. 

"I-... I'm not- Just.. Just spit it out already! " he gave up on trying to reason with him, now stuck in this loop of apologies and maybe lies. 

Even his sword began to lower, still firmly gripped even though it wasn't pointed at the person before him. 

_"It all began when I was a child-"_ he tried to joke but earned an unsatisfied huff from the shorter male. 

"Get out-" 

_"Okay! Okay okay..."_ he stopped the other _"I'll say the truth"_

"Better be the truth" 

_"You know that I told you about uh... You know- How I used to do bad stuff"_ he suddenly spoke quietly, scared that someone might be eavesdropping on them. 

"Bad stuff?" he asked "As in killing people and cannibalism?" he asked, sarcastically, sending an annoyed gaze. 

_"I did them with a purpose-"_

"That is?" his face shifted from annoyance to curiosity and then to a neutral state. 

_"I hated seeing my village starve to death every winter-"_ he admitted _"We lived in a poor area and during harvesting months I always saw people with countless golden chains and earrings... and crowns and expensive stuff that never bought items from us, saying it was too expensive... "_

"What does that have to do with killing people-" 

_"Those made me hate rich people and I couldn't help myself but kill one of them when they visited and that's why I was kicked out of my house... Do you think my parents wanted to kick me out? We might have been poor but I was still their child! They loved me but the others didn't anymore...Not after I tied that bastard's cape to a stick and put it as our flag"_ he tried to give as much information as he could, but without George asking any questions he couldn't remeber more. 

"Well then, if you regret it so much- Maybe you should have stopped before it got serious! Let's be honest here... If you didn't want it to be that way you would have stopped! You didn't want to!" the brunette yelled back, already irritated by the whole situation. 

_"I wanted to! I really did! But I couldn't! I saw them flaw their wealth and I just... I lost it! I couldn't stand it! You have to understand... Please- George"_ his hands lowered into the front pocket of his hoodie, calmly. 

"You're trying to reason with me over something that I have no connection with... Just- That's all I wanted to hear-" he dismissed the other with a small sign but was surprised when he felt a pair of cold hands on his own. 

Dream's mask was a few palms away from his, wearing a deep frown. 

_"Please George! I missed you so much... I don't want to be away from you- I'll do anything- Just forgive me... I'm begging you... I've changed! I've changed a lot for you!"_ the blonde pleaded and used one of his hands to pull the mask off his face. 

It revealed a tanned face, but not as tanned as Skeppy's. His cheeks were dusted with freckles of all kinds and colors, but also white, salty lines. The emerald orbs that stared at him now were watery as well, pleading to be forgiven. A few scars adorned his cheeks and eyebrows, but the most important one was one striking his face diagonally, still not looking best even if it healed over time. 

George gulped and stared at the other, surprised by his unexpected actions. 

"D-Dream.. I-" his own eyes were glued to Dream's, unable to look away from the ferocity of his gaze. 

_"Please.. I missed you George... I can't stay away from you- You're so important for me and I would never forgive myself if you hated me for the rest of my life"_

"Y-You can't just show up and expect me to forgive you... It's morally wrong, you know that?" he rose an eyebrow, even if his tone was calmer. "I still wouldn't feel safe with you around me... I just- I lost all trust in you, Dream" he sighed deeply, finally having the courage to look away. 

But that was all that the taller needed to reach into the pocket of his pants, hiding the blade inside his sleeve, resuming his staring session. 

_"I've changed... I- Please..."_ he had calmed down and hugged George tightly, burrowing his nose into his shoulder. 

Again, surprised by his touchy behaviour but also in need of human contact, his arms curled around his chest, touching a wet spot on the backside of his hoodie. He didn't care about it at first until it began to feel like a clogged mass, sticky even, and curiosity got the best of him. 

"I just can't- Please get away from me" he whispered. 

A few moments of silence in which Dream shuffled something with his clothes, suddenly the sensation of something pointy stuck in his back, quite evident. 

_"If I can't have you... No one else can.. No one"_ he growled, tears rolling down his cheeks as he stuck the blade deep into George's back, with a satisfyingly easy movement. 

Of course, this didn't go unnoticed by the brunette as he let out a wild yell, gripping tightly onto the material, realizing that it was stained with blood once he opened his eyes. 

The knife hurt, but the emotional pain surely surpassed the physical one. 

He couldn't believe it... He had a knife stuck into his back and the person that thrusted it in was no one else than Dream, the person he had considered his friend until a couple of weeks ago, the person he put so much faith in, gave his life to be handled by a few couple of times. 

It was still impossible for him to comprehend the whole ordeal. The male which he had shared a bowl with, shared a mattress with, shared clothes with stabbed him in the back, quite literally. 

"Dream..." he sobbed "It hurts" his hands began to lose force, falling limp around his body. 

_"I know... I know- It will be over soon"_ he kissed both his cheeks tenderly, then his forehead and lastly the tip of his nose _"It will all end soon"._

They both fell on the ground, George's barely alive body gripped tightly to his chest while he spilled fat tears and agonized cries. 

After what felt like hours, the brunette had finally stopped moving, falling limp with a soft smile planted on his face, eyes closed shut. 

He looked peaceful at least, and even if his hair was disheveled and thrown over his forehead, he didn't look less prettier than usually. 

With the same blade he had stuck in his back, Dream raised his shirt and cut over the silky skin on his chest, making his way between the ribs, trying to not break them but eventually failing, told by a sickening crack- one of his ribs had given up on the pressure, snapping free, almost hitting him in the face. 

His vision was blurred by unstopping tears but he didn't want them to flow more, trying to bite his lips to stop the whimpers and cries he'd let out occasionally. 

Once he saw the desired organ, he cut lightly the thick arteries that connected to it, getting sprayed by the slowly flowing blood. The sleeve of his already stained hoodie proved to be the best cloth he had ever had, wiping it briefly before going back to the work he needed to finish soon. 

The weak pulsating heart was pulled out, looking at it briefly before he took the glasses off his head and shoved them in his bag while the heart was put in a pouch covered on the inside with rubber, to not deteriorate the state of the organ more than it already was.

He sighed sadly and sat up, giving a last glance to the body even if both his mind and guts told him to start running to the secret place where he held his collection. 

Doing so, he calmed down his tears and stopped thinking about George completely, even if just for bare moments. 

Soon enough, the blonde reached the entrance to the long corridor, full of puzzles, stepping on the pressure plates in the known order, pressed only two buttons from the five there and flipped the lever barely visible behind a thick bush. 

The familiar sound of pistons retracting and pushing the blocks away from his face echoed in the quiet hall, having just a few moments to slip inside before they crushed him between them. 

He passed through the deadly puzzles with ease, mostly wanting to get to the actual room before admiring his creativity and handiwork from when he was younger. 

Shortly enough, he was met by the smell of chemicals that always burned at his nose, suddenly realizing that his mask wasn't on his face by the intensity of the fumes. 

Not bothered by it, he spilled the pouch's insides on a nearby counter, the white quartz of the island being immediately stained by the organ, of course, and the clots of blood that oozed out of it. 

He took the heart and washed it carefully with water and put some kind of solution inside the arteries, dumping it into a wide jar after that. 

It was a weird kind of oily, chemical compound that would keep it fresh for years starting now, proved right by his other organs displayed on all kind of shelves, hung by the ceiling or messily stored on the ground. 

Deciding to clean the table later he rolled the jar around a few times, watching as the heart sunk to the lower region of it, tears rushing to his eyes again. 

They flowed quietly for the few minutes in which he just stared at it, mesmerized by how clean it was, spiritually, compared to the others he had stored there, full of hate, grudges and debts. 

This one, George's, was pure and innocent, like a child's- he hadn't committed any crimes, he never hated until he met him, he was always honest, caring and selfless and adored animals, helping them as much as he could, even if it meant sacrificing himself. 

_"Oh George..."_ he sobbed loudly and gripped the glass object to his chest, feeling like dying, even though he walked to the dark colored block in the middle of the room, ready to set the two objects on it. 

Netherite. 

The most valuable material one could get, extremely pricy and hard to find as well. 

It resided in the Nether, the depths of the crimson caves, where you could hear the lava bubbling in the walls, always a risk to take whether you could mine lower or not. 

Yet, he spent years on getting it, acquiring all the pieces of debris scattered in the crust, forging them, making an alloy with gold and giving them the appreciated ingot shape. 

Dream never really knew what was valuable enough to be put on the block, never actually getting too attached to his victims to care about where he put their belongings but he thought that George's glasses would look perfect on it, along with the jar full of the oily mixture.

And, indeed, it looked flawless on the displaying block. The odd but beautiful contrast between the clean white of the frame and the charchoally color of it bought a sad smile to his face even though tears continued to trail down his face, the collar of his hoodie already wet with the salty liquid. 

He couldn't take it anymore. 

He couldn't look at the finished collection anymore. 

It felt like he had lost everything he had dear to himself right now. 

The collection which he spent seven years of his life one was finally completed, the only person he thought as a friend rather than a simple man he'd trade with most likely hated him to the bone, and George... 

Oh George. 

He loved George so much it hurted to see him push him away and refuse to listen to him. He wanted to make things right but if he couldn't be the one living happily with him, then no one had the right to go near him. 

The crude world wouldn't treat the brunette the same way he could and did, and he wouldn't take the risk even if it was the last thing the did while breathing. 

Dream's eyes didn't move from the so called 'pedestal', the thick pressure on his back already starting to crush his last speck of hope, not wanting to leave the room after the last crime he will ever commit. 

This will be the last one, before his own murder. 

He grabbed the same blade he had used to stab his friend, and the longer he though about it, even though he hesitated, he wanted to stab himself and never wake up again. 

With a last look to the glasses, with foggy eyes and a stuffed nose, he stuck the blade in his soft belly, biting his lips to stop pained yells that wanted to slip away. 

He cut a line wide enough for his fingers to squeeze through, reaching through the omentum, the thing he called veil since it rather resembled one, pushing through it and finally letting out a loud, pained moan. 

The pain made him want to give up and pass out on the floor but he kept going, not wanting to wake up to the world that hated him, rather being in his own little space, not bothered by anyone or anything. 

Once catching hold of something slick and slippery, he grabbed it best as he could and pulled out, something gaping from the hole in his stomach, bleeding abundantly onto the floor and hoodie that had slipped down. 

The easiest part would be to wait until he passed out and died, having to count the one hour it took him, and hope to never open his eyes in the familiar, singular room of his house, with a fixed stomach and dried eyes. 

Then, he waited and waited, for countless minutes until he felt more tired and exhausted than he already was, closing his eyes while in the disturbing comfort of the cold, wet floor of his trophy room. 

His body laid on the floor, now completely flaccid, already losing its warmth while the movement activated lights began to shut down, one by one, the one further from him being the first to close, following with the ones right above him, covering the entire room in an icy shadow. 

Even though the darkness was impossible to see through, in his right hand laid a crumpled note that barely spelled 'Idot Dram', the only object he had to remind himself of George. 

An hour passed. 

Dream's body didn't move. 

It laid there, cold and lonely. 

And so, the shameful story of the most feared hunter ended, with his unrequited love laying besides him, as dead as he was, longing for the days he cherished, by his friend's side. 

_**THE END** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It had ended, I think many have speculated this but no one actually thought it would happen... Quite surprising wasn't it?
> 
> _________
> 
> To the people that have decided to read it, honestly, did you expect it?


End file.
